Stand Still
by My Dark Secrets
Summary: "What's stopping you from leaving this place?" I asked. His amber eyes were drained, watching the scotch swirl in his glass, quietly. "It's safe here." I knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable. With me, I could always see him. "I never saw you as the type to be afraid." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid." Standing up, I shrugged, "I can't tell." Sabrina Claudio:Stand Still
1. Chapter 1

**Snippet**: "What's stopping you from leaving this place?" I asked. He was quiet. His amber eyes were drained, watching the scotch swirl in his glass. "It's safe here." I knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable. With me, I could always see him. "I never saw you as the type to be afraid." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid." Standing up, I shrugged, "I can't tell."

**XXXXXXXXX**

_Dear Ms. Leah Clearwater:_

_Congratulat—_

I quickly lowered the piece of paper from my gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. Blinking a couple of times, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. The letter felt heavy, the cardstock vibrating in my shaking hands. I swallowed hard before lifting it to my face again.

_Dear Ms. Leah Clearwater:_

_Congrat—_

I lowered it again, my hazel eyes widening in shock. I glanced at my bedroom door to make sure that it was locked. I could hear my baby brother, Seth, and his friends yelling over the loud explosions of a video game downstairs. It was a typical Wednesday in the Clearwater house. I came home from volleyball practice to find a large envelope in the mailbox, thanking the good Lord that no one cares enough to check the mail in this house except for me. I had considered having my decision letter mailed to my job, since no one in the world except my best friend, Rebecca, knew I was applying to schools outside of Washington State.

See, everyone already had my life planned out for me. My parents wanted me to go to a college in state, close to home, and then move back after . I'd marry my longtime boyfriend, Sam, and we'd have little babies and live whatever version of a picture perfect La Push life I was allowed to live. My mom wanted me to be a nurse, just like her. It was all very vanilla and boring and…not at all what I wanted.

"Ok," I whispered. "Let's try this one more time.

_Dear Ms. Leah Clearwater:_

_Congratulations! Duke University is now your university. You will be joining a most impressive group of students in the Duke Class of 2018; you and your classmates admitted under our Early Decision program will comprise the core of our incoming class next fall._

_Your classmates will come from across the country and around the globe; the student body you are joining is a thriving community enriched by the breadth of talents, interests, and experiences of its members. You should be proud of contributing to that community, for you have earned your place in it. I know that you and your classmates will distinguish yourselves academically and personally over the next four years, and you will leave Duke exceptionally well-prepared to make a difference in the world._

I covered my mouth in shock, hopping up and down in excitement. In secret, I had applied for colleges all over the country, just to see what would happen. It wasn't that I wasn't happy in La Push; it was just all a little too cookie cutter for me. It was easy to get caught up in the monotony of this place. We all grew up together, we went to school together, we were on our way to working together and we were on our way to dying together.

So, I secretly submitted applications in secret, dipping into money that I'd saved for myself over the years and had gotten accepted into almost every single once. Columbia, Pepperdine, University of Chicago, Boston University, Tulane, and now Duke. This didn't mean that I was absolutely making the decision to leave; it was just nice to know that I could. I already had my acceptances to University of Washington and Washington State. Those were the ones that Sam and I had talked about anytime we discussed our future. Never too far from home, never challenging what else could be out there in the world.

The photo of Sam and me at junior prom caught my attention and effectively made my excitement turn into dread. It was a picture of us slow dancing; one of his large hands was resting on my hips and my arms wrapped around his neck. We looked happy. We _are _happy. He was smiling down at me as he adjusted the king crown he had placed on my head.

Sam Uley was the perfect boyfriend. Student body president, captain of the football team. He was a natural born leader and a sweetheart. He was the kind of guy that you marry and have a million babies with, and I wanted that. Eventually. But I was ready to leave La Push first, get my feet wet, before settling down. Everyone pretty much thought that we would settle down right away. We'd been together since I was 15 years old.

Everything had been "perfect" between us until a few weeks ago. Sweet kisses turned into a spiked temper really quick these days. His body was running hotter than usual and he hit some weird new growth spurt that he didn't want to talk about. Today was a weird case; he disappeared after third period without a text or a note or anything. He was short with me a lot of the time, saying "Just drop it, Leah, I'm fine," when he very clearly wasn't. And then in front of everyone else, he would just pretend that everything was fine. He was all smiles again and jokes with his best friends, Paul and Jared. Lately, the only time I really saw him was in the morning when I got to school, not much else.

"Leah! Sam's here!" Seth called.

And apparently now. I could hear his heavy footfalls on the stairs, growing louder as he got closer. I carefully placed the acceptance letter in my desk drawer with the others and took a deep breath. I could never figure out what kind of day it was going to be with him. At school, he was fine; he was maybe a little snappy once or twice, but overall, it was a good day. No one knew Sam like I did, and I think that's why he feels so comfortable letting his guard down around me. It's always easier to get upset with people who you knew would be there for you. So, I was having to navigate dealing with his mood swings and also having no idea what's triggering him or how to fix it. All I could do was take it a second at a time.

No one knew about his temper. It only happened when we were alone. Around everyone else, he put on his mask and pretended that everything was fine. He was everyone's favorite person. Whatever was happening, I hoped would be over soon and we could just get on with life. If I'm being honest, this letter couldn't have come at a better _and_ worse time. I didn't want to have the conversation that I wanted to leave La Push. But, if things continued like this, with him pushing me away at every single step, I was prepared to walk away.

We were normally so happy and six months ago, if you would have asked me if we were going to get married, I would have said, "Fucking absolutely." But Sam wasn't acting like the Sam I fell in love with. Or maybe all of this is just high school.

His smiling face appeared in my doorway with a small box of Sour Patch Kids in his hand and a history textbook in the other. After closing the door, Sam eyes raked over me, his eyes gleaming. "There's my girl," he said, dropping his things on my desk, right over the drawer that held my acceptance letters, before taking my face in his hands. I smiled, ignoring the intense heat radiating from his hands. Sam's full lips covered mine sweetly for a second.

I broke away from his full lips, gently wrapping my hands around his wrists. "What happened to you today?" I asked casually.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, leaning in to kiss me again. It was a tactic. His way of trying to make me forget about his little disappearing act. I pecked his lips before leaning away.

"I mean, your empty chair next to me in history and calculus and at lunch. Come on, Sam, you know what I mean."

His eyes flashed with irritation; then he just shrugged before he threw himself on my bed. He patted the space next to him. "Come cuddle with me."

"Oh, were we done with my question? It's not like you to skip class."

"I just needed to take care of some things, ok?" he said, reaching for me.

I took a step back. "Things like what?"

"Leah," Sam groaned. "Please don't do this."

"I'm just—"

"Leah, enough," his voice boomed. I flinched at how loud his voice resonated in the room. He sighed, "It's nothing you need to worry about. Just…will you please lay down with me?"

"I thought we were supposed to be leaving soon." I said quietly. I was trying my best to shake off when he yelled at me. Some of our friends were hosting a bonfire tonight. It was a frequent occurrence around here; parents pretending that their high schoolers weren't underage drinking, Billy, the chief, telling those ridiculous legends of the werewolves every chance he got, and cliff diving into the ocean. Music. Food. The whole deal.

He patted the space next to him again, giving me a softened look, "We have some time. Come on, Lee Lee, if you lay down, I'll let you eat all of the blue Sour Patch Kids."

My heart fluttered at the use of his nickname as I took a deep breath. It was better to fake it that him yelling at me didn't bother me than to push it. So, what's the best way to get things back on track? Sex. "Oh, well don't you know how to make a girl feel special," I tried to joke, climbing onto the bed. I straddled his waist and leaned down to capture his lips. Sliding his hands to my hips, he gave them an affectionate squeeze as he chuckled in my mouth. Today would be a good day, I decided. No matter the bullshit, today would be good. We would go to the bonfire and we will smile, he will be attentive, he will be Sam. The normal Sam.

His burning hot hands slid up my top as he deepened the kiss. I missed this. My mind wandered back to Duke; I knew if I told him I was looking out of state, everything about us would change. I don't know if I was ready for that. Our tongues entangled as his hands continued to glide up my back. The front door slammed downstairs and I could hear rowdy shouting in the living room. "Honey, I'm home!"

I rolled my eyes, breaking away from Sam. Paul. Since the reservation is so small, we were all kind of connected and bonded as a giant family. Even though Paul was Sam's best and closest friends, our family took care of him. He's got a rough background. Both of his parents struggle with addiction and have a tendency to come in and out whenever they please. But, instead of calling CPS or anything like that, my father decided that we would help out as much as we could. All of us. When we were about 12 years old, my dad went around the entire reservation and ask that we all help to take care of Paul. We were a village. We fed him. Sometimes he would bounce from house to house when his parents weren't around. It was just what we did. As much as he annoyed me, I'd rather know he's taken care of than to see him be part of the system. He wasn't a charity case or anything like that. He was family.

That being said, just because he was family doesn't mean that I loved having him around all the time. We used to be good friends, but not so much anymore. Nevertheless, he spent most of his time with our family because he really connected with my mom and dad. Which also means that he spent most of his time bugging the shit out of me. "You locked the door, right?" I asked Sam, brushing his nose with mine.

"Uhhh…" Sam started as we heard feet coming up the stairs. He grimaced a little bit as he said, "My bad."

My bedroom door swung open, "Hey, Lee, are you decent?" Paul called as he leaned in the frame. He chuckled as he took in my and Sam's compromising position, shaking his head. Even though Sam and I had been together for years, my parents still wanted to keep things pretty safe. You know the drill. No closed doors (while they were home), no boyfriend in the house after 9, no sex…that they know of. "My, oh, my," Paul smirked.

Sam grabbed the pillow from under his head and chucked it at Paul. "Get the fuck out of here, man!" he exclaimed. Paul caught the pillow with ease and threw it back on the bed, laughing at us. I kept my eyes down as I climbed off of Sam. He kept one hand around my waist as he sat up. "What are you even doing here? I thought you were supposed to hang with Alena after school."

Paul spoke, "Nah, she cancelled on me today. We're meeting at the bonfire tonight though."

"Alena Wilde?" I asked, glancing between them.

"Yeah, they've been hooking up for a couple weeks now," Sam told me.

I scrunched my face in distaste. What a weird pairing.

"What's that face for?" Paul chuckled.

I shrugged, "She just doesn't seem like your type to me, that's all."

Alena was cute, but she was definitely a good girl. She didn't like to break the rules, she never drank at bonfires, and there was no way that she was fucking Paul Lahote. It just wasn't in her character. He was the guy that no father trusted with their daughter. He was the guy that got caught fucking Olivia Alister on our chemistry teacher's desk in the middle of first lunch. Everyone chalked it up to him lashing out because of his parents' inconsistency and were very understanding of that, but that didn't mean they were willing to hand their daughters over to get dicked down by him.

There was no denying that Paul was attractive. He, unlike some of the other guys around here, liked to keep his onyx hair short and a bit of stubble on his face. His amber eyes were framed by long, dark eyelashes and his jawline was something straight out of a magazine. He was tall, not as tall as Sam though, standing at 6'2". And after years of football and boxing, he was muscular without being overly buff. Overall, Paul Lahote was a smoke show. You'd be blind to think otherwise.

"What do you know about my type, Lee?" Paul asked, crossing his arms, looking amused. He had that glint in his eye. The mischievous one that says, 'Watch your words, Leah.'

I snorted and shook my head at him. "If you didn't spend every waking moment in my house, I wouldn't know anything about your type. Or your gross bathroom habits. Or how you wash your hands three times before eating your food. Or how you always cry when we watch—"

"Go easy on him, Lee Lee," Sam chuckled. "The important thing is that _you're _not his type. Or shit would get weird real fast."

"Nah, you've got nothing to worry about, Sammy. Clearwater's too mouthy for me." Paul said, looking directly at me. I rolled my eyes before standing up, walking over to my closet. I pulled out a sundress to wear for tonight, ignoring Paul and Sam as they continued to talk about Paul hooking up with Alena Wilder. The boys had been friends since we were all in daycare. They were the dynamic duo until Jared Cameron and his family moved back to the Rez in third grade. Then the three of them were unstoppable. Three good looking guys who played sports and charmed girls. It was all very high school cliché, but, hey, it's a cliché for a reason, right? Clichés are only that because they're true.

The thing about living on a reservation is that it's really small. If you couldn't tell yet, everyone knew everyone. Which meant that everything and everyone's affairs tended to get a little…muddled together. But we'll talk about that soon. It's not time yet.

XXXXXXXXX

It was hours later when we made it to the bonfire. The sun was starting to set over the water when we made it to First Beach. Sam had his arm draped over my shoulders as we approached all of our friends. Paul, Jared, Rebecca, and Rachel were all standing by the drinks table when we approached. I felt Sam place a kiss in my hair before moving away from me to dap up Paul and Jared like the ultimate bro he was. Both of the boys gave me a small hug before I turned my focus to _my _best friends, Becca and Rach. They were twins. The Black twins. The chief's daughters.

"Lee, you look adorable! This dress is so cute, I love it!" Rach said, hugging me. I happily returned her hug; I loved how Rachel loved. She was such a sweet person.

Rebecca was already in the process of pouring a drink and opening a beer bottle for me. "It's about time you made it. We were this close to sending a search party," she smirked as she handed me the bottle. We cheers-ed before taking a sip.

"Can you show at least a little discretion, Bex? Parents are watching," Rachel frowned. I glanced over my shoulder to see Billy Black and my parents looking over at us, playfully shaking their heads. I smiled and waved and laughed as my mom blew a kiss at me. Rachel was usually the only one worried about getting caught drinking. The rest of us didn't really care that much. "Wait, what's that in Jacob's hand? Does that look like a joint?" Rachel flitted off to police their little brother.

Aside from the six of us, the rest of the school seemed to be having the time of their lives already. I spotted my brother with his friends huddled together as if they were hiding something. A girl from a younger class approached them, batting her eyelashes at Seth. I watched as his face flushed and his body language completely changed. I think my kid brother is trying to flirt right now! "Hey," I called behind me to my friends. "Who's that talking to Seth?"

"I think that's Alena's little sister," Paul called back. "Uhh, Alexis, I think."

"More important than that," Rebecca started, placing her chin on my shoulder, "I may have a secret."

"Oh, really?" I asked, intrigued, taking my eyes away from my brother. "I may have one too."

She gasped in fake surprise. "Oooh, we may have to go discuss these secrets." I could hear the smile in her voice. She took my hand in hers before calling over her shoulder. "Samuel, I'm stealing our girlfriend!"

Sam chuckled, "Alright, just bring her back, Bex."

"I'll think about it!" she shouted, pulling me away to a log far enough away from the crowd so people wouldn't hear us. She sat down in the sand, her drink in one hand, a piece of paper in the other, and a coy smile on her face. I perched my ass on the log in front of her, mirroring her smile. Her back faced the fire as she crossed her legs and looked at me with that signature Becca naughty glint in her eye. "Do you want to go first or should I?"

I pursed my lips, suppressing a big smile. "You first," I decided. She nodded, as she handed me a familiar thick cardstock. The same kind of cardstock I had been holding earlier. I took a deep breath before carefully unfolding it and reading the letterhead: University of Hawaii at Manoa. "Dear Ms. Black, it is with great pleasure that I write to offer you admission to the University of Haw—_oh my god, Bex!_" I screamed, tackling her into the sand. I gave her the biggest hug I could manage, feeling the tears sting in my eyes. Rebecca was laughing in my ear as she hugged me back. "Oh my god, Bex, holy shit! You did it!"

"It was a no brainer, of course," she giggled, as we sat up. She beamed at me for a second, taking my hand in hers. Rebecca was a genius and wanted, more than anything, to study marine biology. Water was her home and what better place to learn than on an island. "Ok, tell me. What was it today?"

I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to us. No one was. My eyes scanned for Sam and found that he was very noticeably missing. I could see Jared and Paul digging around in one of the coolers, but no Sam. I furrowed my brows before focusing on Becca again. She looked at me expectantly, like a kid waiting for candy. "I heard from Duke today," I told her quietly, squeezing her hand. I bounced a little as I said, "They said yes."

"Duh!" Bex threw her arms around me again. We talked for over an hour about our plans. I still hadn't decided on which school I was going to choose, but Rebecca was feeling a bit more decisive on my behalf. Even though California was still close to home, Pepperdine was one of my top choices no matter the location. And Duke was another top choice. I had chosen these places without having seen them in person, but it was just something in my spirit that was telling me those were the right choices.

"When are you going to tell your dad, Bex?" I asked Rebecca, tipping the beer bottle toward my mouth. It tasted horrible. The music from the loudspeakers was booming and everyone was still having a good time with no signs of slowing down. Rebecca was lying in the sand with her head resting on the log I was sitting on and a slight smirk gracing her lips. Her top was raised just enough to show the sparkle of her belly ring and it was just tight enough to coyly see that her nipples were pierced.

Becca was the wild child. Her father was the chief and she was sure to defy him at every single turn. He wanted her to be on student council, she tried out for cheer. He wanted her to do volunteer hours for her college applications, she went out to the woods with guys like Blake Phoenix and Ryan Butler to smoke weed. Becca was smart, insanely smart. And she was more than capable of doing better than anyone around here, but she was having the same issue as I was. She was ready to leave La Push. This place is suffocating.

Now, her twin Rachel, my other best friend, didn't understand why anyone would want to leave. She loved the security of La Push, which was fair, but it also meant that she was ready to settle at Peninsula College up the road in Port Angeles and just commute from home. She wanted to please their parents as much as possible while still being a fun twin sister. So, she did student council _and _cheerleading. She volunteered at the soup kitchen _and _hung out with Bex and I at bonfires and drank with us.

"I haven't even told Rach yet," Becca said, picking up her cup filled with vodka and orange juice. She glanced up and me and shrugged, taking a sip.

"You can't hide it forever," I sang. "There's no way you can keep it a secret. That's crazy."

She held out her two hands, "Pot, kettle."

"We're not talking about me," I said, lifting my chin indignantly. Bex had applied to every single university in Hawaii for their upcoming fall class and hadn't told a single soul except for me. She meant it when she said she wanted to put as many of the elements between her and La Push as possible.

"We should be," she replied amused. "How many cities is that now? New York, Boston, New Orleans…"

"Ok, ok, I get it," I chuckled. "I haven't talked to Sam about it at all." Looking around, I made sure that no one was really paying attention to us. Rachel was busy making sure that Jacob, their younger brother, wasn't drinking alcohol. Embry Call, Quil Ateara, and Seth were all rough housing a little too close to the fire for my liking. I could see Paul and Jared who were pouring drinks, joking around as per the usual. And Sam was still mis—

"Where _is _Sir Samuel? I've only seen him a couple of times tonight," Rebecca observed as she waved at Blake Phoenix. I watched as he shot her a wink from across the bonfire. "Usually, he's all over you at this point! Drinks are flowing, I'm pretty sure there's smoke around here somewhere, and Dad hasn't bored us with legend yet. I'm surprised you still have your clothes on."

We both laughed. She was right; usually, at this time of night, Sam and I would be sneaking off to his house to hook up and Rebecca would be off with her booty call somewhere. Bex was usually my alibi and I was hers. The system works. But I had absolutely no idea where he went. I wanted it to bother me more than it did. I waited for me to feel perturbed by his absence, but I wasn't. I think if he was around me at that moment, I'd feel worse because I was hiding things from him. Becca sat up and started combing a hand through her curled black hair. "Can you cover for me?" she asked.

"Of course," I said, taking a swig of beer again. I glanced around the bonfire again, as Bex readied herself for a good fuck, and caught eyes with Paul. He was looking at me with an indescribable expression. I couldn't bring myself to break my gaze away from him as I tried to decipher the look in his eye. His eyes narrowed a bit, but not in anger or disgust. It was almost as if he was studying me. Jared hit Paul on the arm and, just like that, he looked away from me and focused on Jared, shaking his head.

Right as Blake approached us, I casually slipped away from the party and onto a more secluded part of the beach. With most of the reservation living it up at the bonfire, it was a little harder to find a place where people weren't. I walked until I found a spot a smooth 50 yards from anyone. I plopped down on the sand with a sigh.

My favorite part about this place was the beach and the rain. I wouldn't trade rainy days for anything in the world. I felt the soft drizzle on my face and listened to the waves crash against the shore. My mind drifted off; I feel like there are times when I could actually see the different versions of my life play out. Anytime I was with Sam, most often than not, I could see myself getting married young and having a couple of kids and becoming a nurse like my mom. When I was with Rebecca, I could definitely see us living our best lives and travelling and never coming back to La Push no matter what. But then when I think about those letters sitting in my desk, I see the life that I've always wanted for myself. A healthy life outside of La Push and coming back when I'm ready, not because I'm forced to. As crazy and rebellious as Becca was, she was right about most things when it came to me. We were the same. We were both absolutely terrified of telling people that we were leaving; Becca was just better at hiding it than me. You could see it on my face that something was wrong; my face had no secrets ever.

A full beer bottle appeared beside my face. Looking up, I saw it was attached to a strong hand, a veiny muscular arm, and a broad shoulder before I saw Paul's amber eyes glancing down at me. "You look like you need a drink," he said, touching the cold glass to my shoulder. I bit my lip in contemplation before grabbing the bottle from him. He plopped down next to me, placing his paper plate full of food in between his legs. He, quietly and contently, started to eat his burger and looking out to the water.

I watched him for a second before taking a swig of beer. "What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm eating," he said, his voice muffled.

I suppressed a smile, "No, I mean what are you doing over here?"

"Oh," he started, wiping his mouth. "I saw you walk off. You looked frustrated about something. Drinks fix everything."

"I should probably stop. I've been drinking on an empty stomach," I confessed, wrapping my arms around my legs to hug myself. I was too caught up in my own thoughts about college to eat. Paul shot me a curious look before splitting his hamburger down the middle and holding out one half to me. "No, no, it's ok. I can't take your food."

He chuckled. "It's a hamburger, Lee. Not my virginity," he paused. "Oh wait…"

His laughter grew louder as I shoved him into the sand. It was an involuntary reaction. He fell on his side and continued to laugh. I felt myself start to giggle before shaking my head, watching as he settled himself into hearty, good natured chuckles before shooting a wink at me. "Don't even start," I warned.

"Oh, come on, Lee. You know you were supposed to be my girl," he said, training his eyes back to the water as he downed his own beer.

Remember when I said that all of the business of the reservation started to muddle together? Yeah…you don't even know the half of it. 3 years ago, two and a half weeks before I got together with Sam, I lost my virginity to Paul Lahote. And, to this day, it was one of the best nights of my life. When you live on a reservation as small as ours, things just get weird! I was dealing with crushing feelings for both Paul and Sam at the time and it was all just a matter of timing.

Let me set the scene: 15-year-old Leah and 15-year-old Paul find themselves alone with no parental supervision one random Thursday night while I was prepping him for a geometry test. It wasn't a planned thing, but we both knew that there were feelings at the time and…it just happened. Two virgins figuring out what sex is is hilarious and bumpy and it was great. For months, we had been coyly circling each other and, despite Paul being Rebecca's first kiss, everyone—especially Becca—was pretty fascinated in the idea of Paul and me. Before Paul turned into the world's largest erection, he was the funny, edgy guy who wasn't afraid of expressing his thoughts and feelings.

Until after that night. After we slept together, he started acting really weird. He would avoid me in the hallways and brush me off whenever I tried to talk to him. He would come to my house when I wasn't there to grab some of Mom's cooking and then leave. It was weird. And, while that was happening, Sam swooped in and started giving me the attention and affection that I loved. I had had a crush on Sam too at the time, but I felt like it was only because we all spent so much time together and it was only a matter of time before feelings developed.

When I agreed to be Sam's girlfriend, Paul was seen at school with his arm casually hanging around Amber Ronan, a junior girl on the cheer team with Rach and Becca. So I threw my full self into Sam. And he never found out that he wasn't my first. Paul was kind enough not to mention it and went back to being normal eventually.

So, here we were, three years later. We had never talked about it. We had never ever been alone since that night. Whenever Paul was at the house, Seth or my parents or our friends were there. Imagine my surprise hearing those words come out of his mouth. _You know you were supposed to be my girl_.

"Is that right?" I said, leaning back on my hands. Each individual grain of sand pressed themselves into my palms. I couldn't look at him. I didn't know what to do with a conversation like this.

"Yup," he said, nonchalantly. He continued to chow down on his food as if he just told me that he bought a new jacket today. I waited for him to speak again, feeling my eyebrow slowly raise itself. He swallowed before looking over at me, smiling, and then taking another bite.

"That's a pretty bold statement, Lahote," I stated, reaching over to grab some chips from his plate.

He shrugged, "Just speaking the truth, Clearwater. We're about to graduate; we might as well talk about it."

"Don't you have a date tonight?" I turned to him fully, folding my legs under me. "Where's Alena?"

"With her girlfriend," he told me casually, meeting my eye. I blinked in shock and watched him smirk. "She's helping me with history; in exchange for an A, she asked me to cover for her while she went on dates with Kiley. Turns out her father thinking she's fucking me is so horrifying, it lessened the blow of her coming out."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

He shrugged again, looking away from me. "Why not?" he retorted. "Things are so different now. I was just thinking about how different things would be if, uh, certain things didn't happen."

My heart leapt into my throat and I immediately felt cross by his words. If certain things didn't happen? Was this his way of telling me that he regretted having sex with me? We could have graduated and never seen each other again without having this conversation. Like how dare you? But also, why do I care? Why do I give a single shit about what Paul Lahote thinks? He's the one that cut me off, not the other way around. I closed my eyes and forced a deep breath before shaking my head. I felt my face harden. "You're an asshole."

"Wait, what?" he said as I stood up. It was things like this that made me ready to leave. The history of this place was too much to bear. How do people survive every single day, looking at the same people, doing the same things? How do you live your life without making these mistakes with people? How do you know what decisions are the right decisions? I started to storm away from him, shaking my head and throwing my hands up in frustration. "Leah, hold up!"

"No thank you," I called over my shoulder. "Just save it. I don't even want to hear what you have to say."

"Leah, stop!" Paul reached out and captured my wrist in his large hand. I whirled around and felt my body crash into his. I felt myself take a couple steps back in shock before composing myself. Still holding my wrist, Paul caught my eyes and it was like time stood still. My heart jumped as his thumb gently stroked the top of my wrist. We had always kept a healthy boundary; he hadn't touched me in any way, except for extremely curt, obligation hugs, in years. And I was remembering why. It felt different. So much different than Sam. And I couldn't figure out if that was good or bad. "I don't want to fight you, Lee. That's not what I meant at all. There's…there's a lot you don't know that I'm ready to tell you now."

I pulled my hand away from his grasp slowly, never breaking eye contact. I didn't speak; I didn't know what I was supposed to say. Paul shifted his weight as he cleared his throat. It wasn't very often that he was uncomfortable. He was always the guy that found humor, whether at your expense or not, in any situation. You could never get too close because he never wanted anyone to get close. Sex was just sex. Relationships were for suckers. Paul looked out for himself. "Take a walk with me?" he asked.

XXXXXXXXX

He never talks about his parents or what he's been through with them. No one, except for the adults, knew anything about Diana and Randall. All I knew was that they both struggled with alcohol and pills and that they were really mean. My only interaction with Diana was when I was 8 years old; my mom had sent me to deliver some hand-me-downs to Paul for the first day of school. We never knew when Diana and Randall would be around, so I was shocked when Diana swung open the door reeking of alcohol, called me a little cunt, told me they didn't need our fucking charity, and then slammed the door in my face. Needless to say, when Paul started to explain to me what his parents said to him after we had sex, I wasn't surprised.

"…they're just miserable fucking people, you know? They told me I could never actually take care of a girl like you. You would only see me as a charity case and, if you were to ever be with me, it would be out of pity." Paul spoke as he tossed a rock up in the air and catching it. We were wandering up the hill toward the high cliffs overlooking the ocean. "When I came home that night, it was like they could sense it on me like dogs. And they berated me with questions until I told them it was you. That was probably the stupidest thing I could have done."

"You know I never treated you different because of your situation," I argued. "Even if that thing didn't happen, you've just been so distant from me all this time."

"I've been around."

"Around Sam. Around Dad. Around Seth. Not around me," I pointed out, kicking the dirt with the sole of my flip flop. "I thought we were closer than that, dude. You knew—you _know_—everything about me. And then you just gave me the cold shoulder after something that big. You bruised my ego. I thought I did something wrong."

He shook his head. "It was never you, Lee. It was them. It's always them." We stopped at the edge, feeling the breeze wash over us. This was the longest I had been alone with Paul in a very long time and it felt like no time had passed. He was still the Paul that I knew. "You remember coming up here and dreaming about getting out of this place?"

I felt myself smile, wide. "Yeah. We'd all stand in this spot and scream out our wishes. As if the ocean would grant them." I could hear the waves crashing below us. It was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. "We're all grown up now."

Paul was quiet. I glanced over at him and he looked sad. It was weird being alone with him again, but I welcomed it. Because, even after all of the drama, he was still Paul. He was still my friend. I grew up with him and my family takes care of him. I never wanted him not to be happy; I always wanted him to understand what made him happy and to go for it. "Everything's about to change," he spoke. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"You should be excited. We're about to get the chance to start fresh in life. The world is at our fingertips after we graduate." I said, holding my arms out for show.

"Maybe for you," he commented, shoving his hands in his pockets. I could hear him jingling the keys in his pockets. It was a nervous habit for him. "You could get out of here if you wanted. Shit, I wouldn't be surprised if you were already planning it. You and Sam will probably leave together and get married and only come back for Christmas and funerals."

I cringed. "That's…a bit much."

"Am I wrong?" Yes.

Sam didn't want to go far. The day he told me the farthest he'd go was Seattle was the day I received my first acceptance letter in Portland. And immediately, I started to figure out if we could do the long-distance thing. If, maybe, he couldn't be completely pissed at me for wanting to leave. My mind had started to spin out of control, thinking about how angry he would be when I told him that I'd been thinking about leaving Washington. Hell, leaving the west coast completely. And, at the time, I was willing to give up that dream, settle for Oregon because it wasn't too far, and make it work.

Then he started acting funny. He disappeared from bonfires without a word to me. He pretended as if everything was perfectly normal, but he was starting to be a completely different person to me now. Sam was already very angry for reasons I wasn't aware of. So, instead of pissing him off, I kept it to myself. It wasn't the most solid plan, but it was all I had.

Life after graduation was one of the most and least talked about topics ever. Everyone was so coy about their answers unless they were planning on staying and living at home until they figure out their new plan. Jared was staying, Rachel was staying close, Sam hadn't talked about his plan much to me at all. When we talked about the future, the only thing he would mention was marriage.

I wanted to get married, but not anytime soon. Life was too short to be a housewife at 19. My mom had done it; she got pregnant with me right out of high school and married my dad and they're so happy. My cousin, Emily, was so ready for that life. Emily, besides Bex and Rachel, was my best friend; I trusted her with my life. But we'd always been complete opposites. She had always seen herself as a homemaker; I had always seen myself traveling in Europe or Asia and settling down later.

The only person who talked about getting out of here more than me and Becca was Paul. He didn't want to end up like his parents so much more than how much I didn't want to end up like mine. Even now, that's all he'd talk about; walking off of this reservation and never looking back. I remember, when we were 13, he was obsessed with the globe in the library. So, my parents bought him one, but he would only keep it at our house. And he'd say to me, Sam, and Rebecca, "Watch, one day, I'll have seen every single country on Earth. Just wait for my postcards."

Paul sighed beside me. "I should get you home," he said. "It's late."

"I miss you," I blurted. Immediately, I cursed before correcting myself. "I miss you being my friend."

Saying that I missed Paul was tricky. How fucked was it that I missed the friendship of my boyfriend's best friend? After I lost my virginity and I started dating Sam, the dynamic of our entire group of friends shifted. Boundaries were set, priorities were changed, and there was nothing I could do about it back then. But I grew up with Paul just as much as Sam did and I wanted my friend back. Point blank.

I could feel myself holding my breath as I waited for him to say something, but I couldn't figure out why. I heard him take a sharp intake of breath, but still he remained quiet. Training my eyes on my shoes, I started to mentally kick myself in the ass for even opening my mouth. _So. Fucking. Dumb. Leah. Good job. Great fucking jo_—. "I miss being your friend too, Lee," he finally said, carefully grabbing hold of my hand. "I've been missing you for a long time. More than I'm willing to admit."

**XXXXXXXXX**

***setting the foundation and exiting stage right***

**Go listen to Stand Still by Sabrina Claudio**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wash your hands! Don't touch your face! Stay inside!**

**XXXXXXXXX**

I'm going to fucking kill him. That stupid Radioactive song blared through the wall as Seth got ready for school the next morning. I rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, cursing loudly. Sharing a wall with a 14-year-old boy was easily the most torturous thing you could put yourself through. This song fucking blows.

The warm and welcoming smell of fresh breakfast was making its way into my room from downstairs. I could hear my parents' chatter and laughter as they enjoyed their morning together; it was sweet. Usually, I would be absolutely giddy at the smell of breakfast and at the idea of spending time with my family first thing in the morning, but my head was pounding, and I could barely keep my eyes open. Hugging the pillow closer to my eyes, I attempted desperately to drown out the sound of my brother's music. Kill me now.

I ended up getting back to my house around 3 in the morning. Paul walked me all the way home and insisted on going back to his own house after I offered him the couch. He said that he needed the time to think about everything we had talked about. I could tell that being so open and vulnerable about his parents was a lot for him, so I let him go.

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Whoa, oh, oh, oh_

_I'm radioactive, radioactive_

"Ugh!" I groaned, throwing myself out of bed. I pounded on the wall that connected my bedroom to Seth. "Turn it down, you fucking brat!" I yelled. God forbid I get to lie down for a little extra time without a fucking concert happening next door. I heard the music volume lower just enough to hear Seth mumbling to himself.

Mornings were always a clusterfuck for me. I kind of always felt like a chicken with my head cut off in the morning. Giving yourself like 45 minutes to get ready for the entire day, create an agenda, and mentally prepare yourself to be smiling and social was a task. I still hadn't heard from Sam since he all but ditched me at the bonfire. I hurriedly packed my book bag before checking my phone for the time. 7:37 aaand no texts or missed calls.

"Leah, Seth, breakfast!" my mother called. The morning was really the only time we got with both of our parents. Mom was an evening/night nurse and Dad sat on the Quileute council, which meant that he helped to make the most important decisions for the tribe on the reservation. Daddy was an open book about everything except his job. He was my favorite person in the world. Mom and I were a little different; we butt heads a lot, but we still shared a love for a lot of the same things. She wanted different things for me and didn't love that I was so stubborn, so bullheaded.

I ran downstairs as I flipped through my planner, attempting to make sense of my day. I placed a kiss on my dad's cheek and my mom's forehead before sitting down across from my brother. Breakfast with my family was the best part of my day. It was one of the things I'd miss most if I left. Mom made the whole spread: pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon. "Good morning," I chirped, placing my planner next to me. I quickly fixed my plate as I listened to the regular rustle of my father's morning paper and the clinking of forks against plates. I felt a big yawn escape my body as I picked up my fork.

"Tired this morning, sweetie?" my mother asked.

I nodded, "Only a little. I would be a little more rested if Bub wasn't blasting music this morning," I raised an accusatory eyebrow to Seth.

He smirked. "Or maybe she's tired because she came in at like 3 this morn—_ow!_" Seth exclaimed when I kicked him under the table. His elbow slammed on the table as he glared at me.

"Aileah Sage Clearwater, didn't we just have a conversation about breaking curfew?" my father lightly scolded. He flipped the page of his news paper, signaling that the issue wasn't much worth the scolding. He told my mom that we had a conversation about me not respecting curfew, but he really just told me that he got it. He understood.

"Just lost track of time, I guess," I muttered, still looking at my planner. I groaned when I saw that I wrote I had a calculus test first thing in the morning. My English paper on _Great Expectations _was due in the afternoon. My last volleyball practice ever was after school.

"Don't let it happen again," my father said, nudging my arm. I looked up to see him wink at me from behind his paper. Suppressing a smile, I went back to planning my day. My father, Harry, was everything to me. Between both of my parents, he wanted me to be able to say that I enjoyed my high school years. That's why he doesn't make such a big deal about us drinking at bonfires; it took a while to convince my mom, but eventually she wore down. He told her that life is too short to kill our fun. The only thing he ever asked was that we stay away from the woods at night. I never knew why, I never asked. I always figured if that's the one thing he'd ask of me, then the least I could do was respect it.

It's La Push. Nothing ever happens here. Literally nothing. Ever.

"Baby girl, you have to start respecting curfew. It's there for a reason. We want to make sure that you're safe," my mom reasoned. "What were you doing out there anyway?"

"Talking," I shrugged, innocently. Seth snorted before shoving his face full of food. What? It's true. I broke off a piece of bacon and popped it into my mouth. "Becca just needed some girl time, that's all."

"Wait, I thought I saw Rebecca leave early with some people. I didn't see you with them," Seth smirked again. Such a fucking brat. I loved my brother, but, for fuck's sake, at 14 years old, he was the worst version of himself.

I clenched my jaw before speaking in a condescending tone, "Must have been Rachel. You know, there are two of them, Bub. I know you can get confused sometimes."

"Alright, that's enough out of you two," my father said, definitely. "Hurry and eat so you two can get to school."

Seth looked at me, mockingly, while I glared at him. "I will kill you," I mouthed to him before turning my attention to my plate. We all made idle chit chat while we ate. Mom asked me if I wanted to shadow her at the hospital sometime during the summer. I narrowly avoided making that a concrete plan. Seth talked to Dad about wanting to try out for the baseball team this season. Seth had a love/hate relationship with baseball; honestly, the kid was talented, and he was always happier when he had something to throw himself into. He just hated the time commitment and the pressure to perform well.

Sports was a large part of the community. Most people tailgated for the football games against Forks High or rallied for the basketball games to support our boys. My parents had been to every single one of Sam and Paul's games since freshman year, as well as all of my volleyball games and Rebecca and Rachel's cheer competitions. It was just another one of those things that brought us together like one big happy family.

As we wrapped up breakfast, I was all of a sudden unnerved by how much time I had to get ready for the day. I flipped on my own music as I dressed myself, keeping a close eye on my phone, waiting for that regular _I'm outside _text from Sam. Sam was my knight in shining armor; he drove Seth and I to school everyday because I hate driving, I hate it so much.

"So where were you last night?" I heard from my door. I whipped around to see Seth, leaning against the doorframe. Despite grilling me at the breakfast table, he actually looked worried right now. He was a sweet kid at heart. The sweetest, actually. Sometimes he just can't help being a kid brother. "I tried to wait up for you, but I fell asleep."

"Just walking and talking, Bub. It's not a big deal," I said, adjusting myself in the mirror.

"With Paul?" he asked. I froze for a second before shaking it off. I didn't have anything to hide; we didn't do anything. It's not like I cheated on Sam or anything.

"Yes," I answered, nonchalantly. "He's my friend too. He wanted someone to vent to last night and I happened to be there for him."

"Alone?"

"Yes, Seth, alone," I snapped. I sighed before facing him again. "It's not a thing. Please don't make it a thing. Go get ready; Sam should be here soon." I sat down in front of my full-length mirror to start doing my makeup. The fluffy brush swept across my face as I applied my foundation and picked up my phone with my other hand. _Hey, are you on your way? _I text Sam.

Seth's worrisome eyes bore into the back of my head as he lingered by the door. He was quiet. "Does Sam know?"

I set my brush down before meeting his eye in the mirror. "I will tell him when I see him. But I promise, there's nothing to know."

Seth nodded his head before disappearing from my room. Shaking my head, I continued to get ready. We didn't do anything wrong. Paul and I are two adult people who had a conversation. There's nothing suspicious or bad about that. I chalked it up to Seth being too young to understand. He never knew about me having feelings for Paul once upon a time. All Seth has ever known is me being with Sam. As it should be.

"Get a move on, you two! Or you're going to be late!" Mom called. I heard Seth start to run downstairs and checked the time. Fuck. We _were _running late.

I grabbed my bag and trotted down the stairs when I heard Seth say to me, "Lee, he's not here. Where is he?"

No calls, no texts. What was going on? Sam was here at 8:20 every single morning, waiting in his car, and it was 8:35 with no word. I looked at Seth, a little panicked, before dialing Sam's number. "Hey, it's Sam. Leave a message." Straight to voicemail. Fuck.

"Ok," I breathed. "No big deal. I'll…" I groaned. "I'll just drive us."

Seth snorted, "_You're _going to drive?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" I asked, hauling my bag over my shoulder and heading toward the garage, hurriedly. I hadn't driven my car in months. I only drove when absolutely necessary, but Sam was always my ride. My little 2008 silver Toyota Corolla lie there in wait as I swung open the garage door, as it did most days. Sometimes, to get my parents' money's worth, Becca or Sam would drive my car, so it wasn't just sitting in the garage collecting dust and housing squirrels forever. Seth groaned obnoxiously as he plopped himself in the passenger seat. I hit the garage opener and took a deep breath. _Ok, you got this_, I thought to myself.

Pulling the gear into reverse, I felt myself rolling backward down the steep driveway. Oh my god, it's going too fast. I slammed on the brakes and watched as Seth lunged forward, the seatbelt locking promptly. "Lee!" he complained.

"Sorry! Sorry…ok, I got this…" I said more to myself. Where the hell was Sam?

XXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Fallon is a fucking sadist," Rebecca remarked as she opened her locker. "I thought the rest of senior year was supposed to be a breeze. Why would he make a test _that _hard?"

I rubbed my forehead in frustration, leaning against my locker next to hers. The halls were always overcrowded between classes and the closer it came to graduation, the more crowded it felt. Calculus was one of the only classes that Bex and I had together so the only other time I got to see her was at lunch and after school. "I couldn't even focus; I'm exhausted," I told her.

She glanced at me from around her locker door with a curious eye and a raised brow. "Ooh, did you and Sam get up to some mischief last night?" she asked, wiggling her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, "No, I haven't seen Sam since his little disappearing act last night. He's not answering his phone; he didn't even pick us up this morning. I had to drive."

"_You _drove?"

"Poor Seth probably has whiplash," I pouted, hugging my binder close to my chest. Once Becca started joking on me about how horrible my driving is, I laughed to myself and felt myself tune her out. Glancing away from Bex, I saw Paul and Jared walk out of their classroom and toward us. Time slowed up just a bit, like it had the night before. I bit my bottom lip nervously as I watched him reach up to scratch the back of his head, the sleeves of his gray La Push high t-shirt hugging his biceps. Rebecca looked over her shoulder just as Paul caught my eye and gave me a subtle nod as they passed. I raised my hand to wave at him, weakly, before it fell to my side. He winked before turning his attention to Jared who was saying something to him about history.

I had been wondering how he was going to act toward me when we walked into school this morning. Paul understood that even though we had both admitted to missing each other's presence, there was still a boundary to respect. It would be weird for him to all of a sudden want to be around me all the time without Sam around. No Sam, no Paul. At least for now. Last night had been a steppingstone, I think. It was refreshing for Paul and me to have an honest and candid conversation. It was easy for him to make everything a big joke, but I don't know what it was about last night that made him feel comfortable enough to be at least a little more vulnerable than he had ever been with me. I wasn't afraid of Paul. I wasn't afraid to call him out on his shit, no matter who was around.

Becca snapped in front of my face twice, "Uh, hello? Earth to Leah." I blinked and focused on her again. She glanced over my shoulder at the boys before smirking at me. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I asked, pushing myself off of my locker. The warning bell sounded, and we started walking toward our next class.

"That intense moment of eye contact with Paul just now," she said, hooking her arm through mine. "Are we revisiting that little fling? Because I'm into it."

I laughed at my best friend before shaking my head, "We're not revisiting anything," I clarified. "After you ditched me last night—"

"I wouldn't call it ditching, but ok—"

"—to go fuck Blake Phoenix—" I continued.

"—honestly, wasn't even worth it—"

"Paul and I actually talked last night. Just the two of us. It was kind of nice," I admitted, scrunching my nose in slight apprehension.

We stopped in front of Becca's classroom, art history with Ms. Littlesea. Becca faced me with a look of intrigue on her face. "What did he say? Did something happen?"

"_Nothing _happened," I emphasized. The halls were starting to clear, and I knew that the final bell would ring soon. Becca looked conflicted between getting the gossip and not getting a tardy for standing right outside the class when the bell rang. "We'll talk later. Text me when you get to free period."

High school is as tedious as it gets. As I slummed through the rest of my morning, I thought about Sam as I usually would. Except this time, when I thought about him, my stomach had this sense of dread that I couldn't shake. Something was happening and not knowing was driving me crazy. Sam Uley was the most reliable, most trustworthy guy you could ever meet. In 12 years, he had only missed school once; he had strep throat and had still come in to take his finals, quarantined from the rest of the class.

With him disappearing at the bonfire and then not answering the phone today, I was worried he might be hurt. But what exactly was the protocol here? The administration didn't really take students skipping class that serious. It was rare that the school punished us for leaving campus before school was over. But Sam was different; he did so much for the school, I wondered if they would pay more attention because it was him.

The timing of this is all so strange. Why would he wait until the end of senior year to start skipping class? Unless he actually was hurt. Or sick.

I sulked through three more classes before it was time for free period, which I always used as a study hall. Walking into the library, I saw Paul sitting by himself. He was hunched over his tattered American history book and a notebook that looked like it had all of the pages ripped out. His face was completely stone as he scribbled furiously in his notebook. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears from how frustrated he looked. Almost as if he could feel me looking at him, Paul glanced up at the door where I was standing. His eyes lit up for a second before he smiled. He pushed the chair in front of him away from the table with his foot as he nodded to the space.

It was weird. Yup. It was really weird. But I was kind of ok with it. Sitting down, I pulled out my laptop to finish the final touches on my English paper but didn't say anything. And he didn't say anything either. He just went back to his history book. Glancing at the page, I read the words "industrial revolution" and blew out a breath. Senior year was the last chance we'd get to do it right. There was no time for fuck ups and I think we were all feeling it. Going away to college or not, we were getting down to the wire and how we did this semester would determine if we would make everyone proud as we crossed that stage. It was intimidating; some of us were dealing with it better than others.

Paul and I sat quietly for a while, me typing, him studying. After a while, I felt his foot nudge mine, playfully. I glanced up at him as he wiggled his eyebrows; I laughed a little before looking back down at my computer. I continued my work when Paul nudged me again; I ignored him, trying to keep my face from smiling. Then, slowly but surely, I saw the top of my laptop come to a close with a light click after I moved my hands. "What?" I laughed, turning my attention to him.

"You wanna skip?" He whispered, leaning forward. He had closed his history book and pushed it away from in front of him.

"Excuse me?" I smirked.

Paul shrugged, "I feel like we should skip. We're both so stressed out. I can feel it."

"No, Paul, _you're _stressed out," I corrected, opening my computer again. "Besides, I can't. My paper is due this afternoon."

"Ugh, I forgot you're a little Miss Goody," he joked, leaning back in his chair. "You and Sam can be a little uptight. Come on, Leah, live a little. You used to be fun."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice try," I said to him. "Maybe you could afford to be a little more uptight. Graduation will be here before you know it."

"All the more reason to live your best life now rather than later," Paul reasoned, kicking his feet up on the table. "Fine, what are you doing after school?"

"I have volleyball practice," I said, concentrating on my essay.

"Skip it," he dared me.

I scoffed, amused. Closing my computer, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What is with you today?"

"I wanna hang out with you, Lee," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. "You know, since we're best friends now."

If I could only explain how I felt when he said that to me, I feel like I would be putting myself in a compromising position. I think everything that we had been through since we were kids was finally coming to a head of some kind. It was nice to have my friend back and it was nice to be able to talk to him without feeling uncomfortable. But there was still this lingering, nagging feeling inside of me that was aware that Sam would not be okay with this. I wasn't sure if I really cared about that though. I had had a scary thought a couple of weeks before Sam started acting weird. And started to think to myself what if Sam was only meant to be a high school boyfriend? What if my relationship with Sam wasn't meant to go past adolescence? Sam was a wonderful boyfriend, but I still wanted to leave our home and create something new for myself. I wasn't sure if Sam was ready for that. Sam was safe and there's nothing wrong with that. But I found myself wanting more adventure in our relationship instead of the constant stability and security that came with Sam. Yet here I was denying an adventure here with Paul.

Jared plopped down in a chair next to Paul. "Hey, Lee, where's Sam?" he asked. His eyes wore concern and I could see that little vein in his forehead was pulsating. Jared pushed Paul's feet off of the table.

"I don't know," I answered. "What's up?"

"His mom just called me. He didn't come home last night."

My stomach dropped into my butt. Everything else didn't matter. Him not picking me up for school, disappearing in the middle of a party, acting strange to me. None of that mattered. All of that could be explained away. Sam was always there for his mom, no matter what. About a year ago, we found out that she was sick…

_I found him sitting on one of the swings on the playground in the pouring rain. His head hung low as he swung back and forth. His shoulders were shaking just a little, but I couldn't hear him over the downpour. The diagnosis came as a surprise to everyone. Breast cancer. _

_After Joshua, Sam's father, left, Allison really put in the work to make sure that she could provide for Sam. She was regularly pulling doubles at the diner while working to start her own business so she could work her own hours and spend more time with Sam. Allison was the entire world to Sam. She was the sweetest person on the whole reservation. And I hated the idea of her suffering ever._

_I carefully sat on the swing next to Sam without a word. He lifted his head and I hated how broken he looked. His eyes were bloodshot red and his chin was trembling as if he was trying to contain his sadness. My lips parted as I tried to think of something to say. What could I say that would make this better? There was nothing. I reached for him as the tears fell from his eyes again. "I don't know what to do," he said. I put my hand over his and felt it shake._

_I nodded in understanding. His head hung again as the rain fell all around us. "I'm so sorry, Sam."_

"_What am I supposed to do, Lee? I can't lose her…"_

_I had been sitting on the porch waiting for Allison and Sam to come back from the doctor's office. She had found a lump while she was showering and she, somehow, was the only person who wasn't panicking. When they came back, Sam immediately slammed the door of their old truck, looked at me, and took off in the opposite direction. Allison stayed put in the truck, looking down at her lap. When I asked her how she was, she put on the brightest smile she could muster and told me that it was going to be ok and to find Sam._

_To Sam, Allison was superwoman. "You're not going to lose her," I tried to promise. "It'll be alr—,"_

"_Don't." The pain in his voice rang out. The pain was so loud. "Don't fucking say that to me."_

"_Sam, sweetie, she needs you right now. She's scared."_

"I'm _scared," he stood up abruptly. Sam paced for a second, kicking up dirt with each step. His hands clenched and unclenched as he continued to force deep breaths. Then he reared his arm back and punched a tree. "Fuck!" he shouted._

"_Oh my god, Sam," I jumped and rushed to him. I grabbed his hand to check for damage and he snatched his arm away, turning his back to me. "Can you please just talk to me?" _

"_Just…leave me alone. Ok?"_

Allison went into remission pretty quickly after her diagnosis, thank God. But Sam was still sure to spend as much time with her as he could. The idea of losing her was terrifying to him. While Allison always encouraged Sam to live his best life and to explore as much as he could, Sam's commitment to his family was greater than any desire to live for himself. "I went to Principal Rivers after Allison called me. She was really freaked out," Jared sighed.

"What did Rivers say?" Paul asked.

"He said he's looking into it and let me know if he finds anything out. But he didn't seem too concerned about it."

I scoffed, "Of course not." I shook my head and started to pack my bag. "That's not good enough. I'll go talk to Rivers myself."

When I walked out of the library, I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I needed Sam to be safe. If not for my sake, for Allison's. Sam wasn't the type to run away from home and I didn't really see any scenario where someone could kidnap some guy that's 6'6" and 275 pounds of pure muscle. And crime rates around here were always low. But one thing was for sure. Things around here got swept under the rug far too often and I wasn't about to let that happen.

"Hey, Lee, wait up," I heard behind me. Turning around, I saw Paul and Jared running to catch up with me. "We'll go with you."

I pursed my lips before nodding. I understood how important this was for them; Sam was their brother just as much as he was my boyfriend.

XXXXXXXXX

"What do you mean there's nothing you can do? There's _tons _that you can do!" I shot up out of my chair, outraged. My voice bounced off the walls so much, I was giving myself a headache.

Principal Rivers carefully took his glasses off of his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. His long hair was swept up into a ponytail; it was graying more by the day. I remember meeting Rick Rivers when I was 6 years old. He was always one of those people that I knew not to get on his bad side. If no non-sense was a person, it was Principal Rivers. Usually, I made it a point to steer clear of him because he was such a hard ass. Today was not one of those days though. "Miss Clearwater…" he started.

"No, I think it's bullshit that one of your students is missing and you're sitting on your ass," I spat. I felt Paul put a hand on my arm to get me to calm down, but I shrugged it off. Mostly because I was already digging myself a deep hole. Might as well stick it out to the end.

Rivers sighed, "I'm going to let the language slide this time because I can see that you're upset, Miss Clearwater." He gave me a stern look. "But until Sam has been gone for 48 hours, my hands are tied."

Paul spoke up, "Whoa, 48 hours? That's a little steep." He touched my arm again, silently urging me to sit down. I glanced at him before perching myself on the edge of the chair. He gave me a look that told me it was time to calm down.

"I'm afraid that's protocol, kids, I'm sorry. Once the 48 hours are up, the council will start an investigation into Sam's disappearance. Until then, it really is out of my hands," Rivers shrugged, lacing his fingers on top of his desk.

"The council?" I asked. "Why would the council investigate this? My father knows Sheriff Swan—the _actual _police. Why wouldn't the police handle this?" My dad was on the council, along with Rebecca and Rachel's father, Billy, Old Quil Ateara, and some other old people who had absolutely no background in law enforcement.

The phone on his desk started to ring. "That's just how things work around here. I'm really sorry, guys," Rivers said, dismissively. "I'll be sure to let one of you know if I see Sam though. I'll keep an eye out. You all should probably get back to class."

After Rivers essentially throwing us out of his office, I felt myself feeling more frustrated than ever. Why did no one care? Sam was such an integral part of this entire school and no one cared that he wasn't here. Paul, Jared, and I stood outside the administration office quietly. My mind was reeling. Mostly because I didn't understand why it seemed like we were the only people who seemed to want to do something about this. I stared at my feet as I shook my head. "I'll see you guys later, ok?" I mumbled before pivoting on my heel and walking away. I heard Paul call my name, but I just pretended I didn't. There was only two people that could make me feel better right now.

I stepped into the old gym to see Rebecca coming down from a handstand on the mat before preparing herself to throw a roundoff back handspring. Rachel was standing on the other side of the mat, ready to guide her at any moment. When Becca came down, her feet landed hard. "You're pushing it, Becca. Pull into your core more to control your landing," Rach said. Bex nodded before walking across the floor to do it again. Becca always used her free period to play around in the old gym; usually Rachel was right beside me in the library to study, but every once and a while, she'll join Bex for some sister bonding.

"Hey!" I called to them. They both looked at me. Their identical faces wore the same curiosity as I approached them, my arms hugging myself. "Can I talk to you guys?"

"What's up, babe?" Rachel asked.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We have a little bit of a situation. Allison said that Sam didn't come home last night."

"Oh, shit," Becca remarked.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "I need you guys to ask around. See if anyone has seen him since the bonfire. Jared and Paul already told me they haven't seen him. I'm starting to get worried now."

"Whatever you need, Lee, we're here for you," Rachel put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I placed mine over hers and said a quiet thank you before we heard the bell ring. Without another word, I felt as both Rachel and Rebecca went into doting mode. My best friends walked with me to lunch, both holding me up in some way. They were just always right there for me when I needed them. They were my twin pillars. Becca hooked her arm through mine as we sat down at our usual table. The cafeteria was buzzing with conversation around us. "You need to eat something. I'll grab you some food, sweetie," Rachel said, moving toward the line. Rach was always the mothering type, always a nurturer.

Frustrated, I put my face in my hands and groaned. Becca started to rub my back as I mumbled curse words under my breath. The table shook a little bit and I heard a quiet, "Is she alright?" It was Paul.

"This whole Sam thing has her rattled," Becca answered, gently alternating between rubbing and patting my back. "Can you drive her car back after—oh my god."

"What?" a pause. "Oh shit."

I looked up to see what the fuss was and came in direct eye contact with a smiley, sunshine-y Samuel Uley. Donned in his letterman jacket and some old jeans, Sam strutted into the cafeteria as if he didn't have a care in the world. His face lit up as he saw me, making his way toward me and the rest of our friends. He stopped for a second to dap up some guy from our class before plopping himself right next to me. "Hey baby," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I promptly leaned away from him, glaring at him. His brows furrowed in confusion before leaning in again. I held up my hand to stop him. "What's up with you?" he asked.

"Sam, you're an idiot," Bex called from the other side of me. Where Rach was a nurturer, Bex was more of a bodyguard. Actually, she was more of a pitbull. She appreciated more of a straightforward approach than to cater to making people feel better. "Did you really just walk in here like everything's fine?"

"What are you talking about, Rebecca? Everything _is _fine," Sam shrugged, throwing an arm around my shoulders. He finally managed to kiss my cheek as I sat there stunned and irritated. "How's my girl today?"

How was I today? Flustered. Frustrated. Confused. Rebecca started uneasily tapping her fingers on the lunch table. Paul was watching the three of us carefully, his amber eyes darting between me, Sam, and Becca. Usually, Rebecca was respectful of my relationship with Sam; she hardly intervened or interjected while we argued. But, considering Sam was acting like nothing was wrong, I could practically feel the fight boiling inside her. His hot skin was scalding my shoulders even through his jacket as he waited for me to answer him. I watched as Rebecca opened her mouth to rip into Sam when Jared cut her off before she could start.

"Yo, Sam, have you talked to your mom today?" Jared asked.

"Nah, I'll see her later. It's fine," he answered nonchalantly. I glared at him as he shrugged and smiled at me. There was something that wasn't connecting in his eyes. Like his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "You good?" he asked me.

I just shook my head. I took a deep breath before speaking, "Can we talk?"

"Sure, baby," Sam said, standing up and holding his hand out to me.

Becca put a hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to do this here?" she asked me quietly. I rolled my eyes and told her it was fine.

Sam led me out into the hallway by the small of my waist. We walked past Jacob Black and his little friends who were posted up in the hallway right outside the cafeteria. "What's up Sam? Hey Leah." Jacob called, waving. He was a good kid; he looked up to Sam a lot. They were on the football team together and Sam really took Jacob under his wing. Jacob was just like this cute little kid who was always so excitable. I shot him a small smile as we continued to walk until we were completely removed from all of the crowds.

I leaned against the wall of lockers with my hands behind my back and just watched Sam as he uncomfortably scratched at the back of his neck. The sunshine-like smile had vanished from his face and now I was looking at the real Sam. His eyes were immediately drained of any positive emotion and he looked tired. I bit my lip and looked down, away from him. "What's happening?" I asked.

Sam slid down the wall until his butt hit the ground. "Leah…" he sighed. "It's fine. I'm ok."

"I didn't ask if you were ok. I asked what's happening," I stated. "You're obviously fine. I can see that you're fine."

His lips set in a hard line. "I'm just dealing with some shit, Lee Lee. I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to talk to me." I threw my hands up. "You owe me that much."

"It's…it's not something I can really talk about…" he murmured. "I would love it if you just let it go."

"Allison called Jared this morning because you didn't go home last night, Sam!" I exclaimed as quietly as I could. "This isn't just me being a bitching girlfriend. I'm worried about you. Paul and Jared are worried about you. All of us. We're _all _worried, Sam!"

His head landed on the lockers behind him in a thud as he stared up at the ceiling. I felt a small lump in my throat as I watched this man who has given me his heart and soul for three years now. He was very clearly going through something and I just wanted to be that person that he trusted enough to talk to about it. Sam didn't talk; he just kept staring at the ceiling.

"If you need help, I'm here," I said, crouching in front of him. I took his hands in mine as I tempered my next question. "Is it…is it drugs?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Leah!" He ripped his hands from mine and stood up. He walked around me, his anger flaring big. "Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? Is that who you think I am?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" I asked, whirling around to face him again. "Your own best friends don't know where you're running of to in the middle of the day! And then you come back around with a smile and a joke as if you're not acting completely different than the person that we know you to be. If it's not drugs, what is it?"

I watched as his hands started to tremble and something that sounded like a low growl was coming from his chest. "You're really not going to drop this, are you?"

"You've known me for 18 years and we've been together for three of them. What do you think?"

"I think you need to mind your fucking business and trust me when I say I'm fine," he snapped. The tremors began to move up and soon his whole torso and his arms were shaking.

He started to walk away and I felt my heart squeeze looking at his back turned to me. "Sam, please just talk to me!" I cried to his back. He looked back at me before shaking his head and heading toward the exit. I don't know how long I stared at the door after he walked out of it.

Every single day, I wrote down a pro or con of leaving La Push. And almost every con had been about Sam or my family. I deal with the guilt of wanting to leave all the time; I hated the idea of Sam hating me for wanting to leave our hometown. But how long was this weird spell going to last? How long would Sam avoid answering questions about his strange behavior before we finally just broke it off and went our separate ways?

I didn't even realize I was crying until I touched my face. Wiping the moisture from my cheeks, I wandered the halls for the remainder of lunch. Ignoring every ding of a notification from my phone, my mind raced as I contemplated the situation at hand. The school was so small, it consisted of two hallways with a staircase at each end. There weren't very many places to hide or find peace and quiet. After a while, I found myself hugging my knees to my chest in a window nook in one of the staircases.

I didn't like to miss classes, but as the bell rang once again, I just couldn't bring myself to put on a strong enough mask to hide that my feelings were really hurt. The staircase flooded with people leaving lunch and going to class. I stared out the window, waiting for the halls to clear. The back window faced the woods, a heavy fog looming over the top of the trees. That's kind of what my head felt like. Foggy.

"Lee," I heard. I turned around to see Bex and Paul standing in front of me. Becca had my backpack hanging on her elbow and a worried look on her face. She offered me a sad smile before sitting next to me. "You ok?"

"I don't…" I stopped. I shook my head and shrugged. "I don't get it."

"Get what, babe?" she asked me.

"Why won't he talk to me?" I asked. It wasn't something Rebecca could answer, but I feel like that was the only thing that was running through my mind at that moment. But did I have any right to be asking that? Considering I was keeping a secret of my own from him…

"I wish I could answer that for you, babe." Rebecca sighed before putting her hand on my knee. "You wanna get out of here?" she asked.

I sat up and shook my head. "I need to turn in my paper. And Seth…he needs a ride home. I can't just leave."

"I will take care of everything you need here," she reassured me. "Paul is going to drive you home so you can get some rest." I started to protest when Becca gave me a stern look. "I don't want to hear any 'buts'. Rach and I will check on you later. Just rest please."

I didn't have much time to really process before Paul picked me up bridal style and carried me down the stairs. "This isn't necessary," I grunted as I struggled against him. He just shrugged and told me to deal with it.

XXXXXXXXX

"_Oh, it is on, like a prawn who yawns at dawn," _I could hear the television when I woke up. A deep chuckle came from my left and I felt my eyes flutter open to see Paul sitting in the aqua blue bean bag chair next to my bed. His feet were kicked up on my footboard and he had a little swipe of flour across his forehead. He had changed from his jeans and La Push football hoodie into a black tank top and some sweatpants. His eyes flicked to me and he smirked, "Good morning, sunshine."

I stretched before sitting up, pressing my back against my headboard. "You're still here?" I asked, my voice groggy from sleep. He handed me a glass of water and nodded. "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple hours. It didn't feel right to leave you alone," he said. "Harry was here, but he left to go run errands with Billy, I think."

"And Seth?"

"At the Littlesea's house," he answered. He gestured toward the nightstand. When I looked, I saw a perfectly frosted cinnamon roll sitting on a saucer next to an empty saucer riddled with crumbs. "I made your favorite."

Paul was a talent in the kitchen. It was one of his secret special skills. When my family took him in, he would watch my mom cook for every meal. And I think it was because he had never seen a mother be so maternal and because my mom made cooking the most mesmerizing and comforting thing in the world. She never tasked him with cooking for us; all she ever wanted was to make sure that he was taken care of. And she always encouraged him to do what he liked.

So, after a few years of watching, Paul decided that he wanted to learn. He would help mom prep food and learned about spices and baking and what he liked and didn't like. When my parents went out of town, he would cook up a storm and have Seth and me be taste testers. But, much like Paul's other interests, he kept his love of cooking and baking confined to my house because he didn't want his parents to destroy that passion in him.

Cinnamon rolls were my favorite. When we were 15, he would make them all the time, just for me. First, he would just pop them in the oven from those little tin cans, but he never told me that over time, he was learning how to make them from scratch because I loved them so much. He was just always thoughtful that way. I picked up the plate and held it under my nose. It smelled amazing and it was still warm. I broke off a piece and felt it melt in my mouth. "Oh my god," I moaned. "That's delicious."

"Yeah?" his face brightened a little. "Good. I figured you needed a pick me up. The kitchen's a wreck though. Flour everywhere."

"I see that," I giggled. "It's still all over your face."

He swiped at his cheek, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Where?"

"Here, I'll get it," I reached over as he leaned in. With my clean hand, I gently wiped the flour from his forehead and, when I breathed in, he smelled of fresh dough and cinnamon. My hand lingered for a second as we made eye contact. I could see the dark flecks in his eyes; that's how close I was to his face. The antics of _The Office _kind of faded for a second before I blinked and sat back in my bed. Jesus, what was that? Why did that keep happening? Less than 24 hours of being Paul's friend again and I kept feeling…things. "Uh, thank you for the cinnamon roll. You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"Nah, it's no problem," he shrugged, pretending that that wasn't weird. He scooted himself down in the bean bag chair before gesturing again to the nightstand. "Oh, and something came in the mail for you."

On my nightstand, there was another enrollment package. This time? University of Miami. I didn't even need to open it to know that it was a yes. Picking it up anyway, I tore open the envelope and read the first few words:

_Dear Aileah,_

_Congratulations! We are delighted to offer you admission to the University of Miami…_

I bit my lip to suppress a smile before slipping the admissions letter back into the envelope. I set it on the other side of my bed, away from Paul's view. "Good news, yeah?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"You could say that," I replied, turning my attention to the TV.

"Miami," he started. "A little far from home, don't you think, Lee?" I turned my head to look at him. He wasn't watching me. He was watching _The Office_ as if he didn't just find out the secret that I've been keeping from literally everyone except Rebecca for months now. "Does Sam know?"

I sighed, glancing at the admissions envelope again. I didn't answer him for what felt like too long. I didn't think that Paul was going to go running to tattle on me, but this wasn't ideal. What was my plan? Leaving in the dead of night and then telling people, "Oh yeah, I'm not coming back if I can help it. So sorry!" That was a shitty plan. And I didn't want it to happen that way. Honestly, I didn't have a plan on how to explain all of this. I still hadn't officially decided if I was leaving yet.

"No, Sam doesn't know. Please don't tell him," I begged.

Paul shot me a look of offense. "I wouldn't do that," was all he said.

"I know…but…"

"Covering your bases. I get it," he shrugged. "I'm not the snitch out of the three of us, though. Jared is."

"Yeah…I guess…" I watched his face for a second. Narrowing my eyes, I asked, "Why are you being so cool about this?"

He chuckled, "It's not my business, Lee. You gotta do what makes you happy. And if getting out of here is what makes you happy, then you should do that."

I sighed, "I just wish Sam would see it that way."

Paul rolled his eyes and snorted. He kicked his feet back up on my bed before folding his hands under his head. "Sam's an idiot. If it was me, I'd be packing up right beside you without a second thought."

"I wish it was that easy."

"Doesn't seem worth it to me if it's not that easy."


	3. Chapter 3

"_Come on, we just went over this. To get the surface area of a cylinder, what four things do you need?" I leaned forward to put my hand over the equation in his textbook._

_Paul lobbed his head backward and groaned, "Leah, I don't care."_

"_Care for me, please," I begged. "Care for five minutes and then I'll stop bothering you, I promise."_

_Paul gave me that look that he always gave me when I asked him to do something for me. The look that said, "I'm only doing this for you, kid." I loved that look. His right eyebrow would raise just slightly, his light brown eyes boring into mine before he rolled them and sighed. He picked up his pencil and started to speak out loud as he wrote out the equation. "Alright, the surface area of the—what? The cylinder?" I nodded. "2 times pi times the radius squared…" he paused. "plus…2 times pi times the radius times the height. Happy?"_

_I giggled. "See? Was that so hard?"_

_I watched a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't much of a talker, in actuality. Sure, he joked around with the guys; he played that larger than life thing really well. But, with me? I liked to think he was his true self with me. Paul could say a lot with his face. He opened his mouth to speak right as light footsteps rushed down the stairs. My mother's beautiful face appeared in the kitchen, dressed in stress. "Leah, honey, I just got called in to the hospital," she told me, digging in her purse. "Have you seen my keys?"_

"_They're at the door, Mom," I answered, sitting up a little straighter. It was almost as if I was trying to maintain my innocence when I wasn't doing anything wrong. Paul and I had a test in the morning and I wanted to make sure that we were both ready for it. I mean, it didn't help that Paul was sitting there looking as beautiful as ever. I hadn't done anything wrong._

"_Oh, that's right," she mumbled, still digging in her purse. She pulled out a $20 bill and placed it on the table. "Please take a break sometime tonight. Leah, don't work him too hard. Go see a movie or something. Be good, both of you."_

_She kissed us both on the cheek before scurrying out of the door, letting the screen slam behind her. It wasn't long before the engine turned and the wheels started to roll down the driveway. Paul and I looked at each other and it was like we had the same realization at the same time. We were alone. It wasn't often that this happened. He was a horny teenage boy. I was a hormonal teenage girl. My parents weren't stupid; they made sure that one of them was home if we were both there. But every once and a while, things just happen, you know? _

_I cleared my throat before looking back down at my textbook. "Ok…so…what about the lateral surface area of—"_

"_Leah," he interrupted. You know that feeling when, all of a sudden, your throat is incredibly dry and your heart is just beating really hard. We both knew where we stood with each other. I wanted him. Bad. We had been spending a lot of time together lately and, other than a few kisses here and then, we had never had _the _conversation. _

_Paul reached down and pulled my chair closer to him. The legs of the chair scraped against the hardwood floor until my arm was pressed against his warm body. Dad was on an overnight fishing trip, Seth was at his friend's house, Mom was at work. We really were all alone. It was so quiet, you could cut the tension with a knife. I was wracking my brain on what to say. He put his hand over my hand that was nervously drumming on my leg, but he didn't say anything. I spaced my fingers and watched as his laced with mine._

_I laid my head on his shoulder, facing his neck. Breathing him in, he always smelled sweet. Like cinnamon and vanilla. I had this theory that he baked and cooked so much that it was part of who he was. It was like baking into his skin almost. It was my favorite part about him._

_Paul turned his head until his face was less than an inch from mine. I moved slowly until my lips barely whispered against his. I leaned away as he tried to fully go for the embrace. "You make me nervous," I admitted, barely audible._

"_Just tell me when you want me to stop," he whispered as he brought his hand to the back of my neck. He lightly scratched at it before bringing our faces together again. It was like two soft pillows massaging my lips, as gently as possible. His tongue tasted like frosting, his hands were so gentle with me. And even though I nodded to let him know that yes, I would tell him when I wanted him to stop, I knew that I didn't want him to stop. _

XXXXXXXXX

The bell above the diner door rang as an animated Rachel came through the door with a wide smile on her face. She was holding a pink and green binder close to her chest as she made her way to us. She sat down, excitedly scooching into the booth next to Jared. Jared, Paul, and Rebecca all groaned as they made room for her when she placed her binder on the table. "It's the most wonderful time of the year again, guys!" she squealed.

"Christmas already passed, Rach," Jared joked.

Rachel rolled her eyes before sitting her binder up right. "You know what I'm talking about," she scolded lightly. "The planning of Rachel and Rebecca's black birthday bash is underway. This is going to be the best one yet. I feel it."

The six of us were hanging out at the diner like on a usual Saturday. After Sam blew up at me, he made quite the effort to be present all day at school the next day. He was right next to me in all of the classes we had together and waiting outside the door to take me to my next class for the ones that we didn't have together. He's not the best actor. I could tell throughout the day that he was itching to get out of there. He kept a smile on his face, but his eyes were so empty.

It feels like everyone is just walking on eggshells around both of us. We didn't know what was going to set Sam off, so conversations were pretty light. He offered no explanation or apology; Sam was just really good at making sure that his actions were up to par. To say I was still a little frosty toward him would be an understatement. I wanted to wait until after school to talk to him, but instead of hanging out at my house after school, he made up an excuse and left as soon as he dropped me off.

But this morning, when I came back from my run, both Paul and Sam were lounging on my porch waiting for me to come back. It was so fucking awkward. When I got to my house, Paul and Sam were standing on opposite sides of the porch with their arms crossed and their faces tighter than ever. We all rode in Sam's truck to the diner in complete silence. Every once and a while, Sam would reach over and squeeze my shoulder, affectionately, but, other than that, the three of us didn't speak.

When we had gotten to the diner, Allison took our order and I could tell that she was hiding her concern for her son in her eyes. Her waist long jet-black hair was swept up into a bun with her order pencil tucked into it like always and her bright smile was enough to help us not to harp on our worries anymore. She set down our regular orders of burgers, fries, and milkshakes in front of us before ruffling Sam's hair and jaunting back behind the counter.

"Rachel enjoys planning the party more than actually going to it," Bex joked, playing with the straw in her cup. She tapped my hand when I reached over to swipe a fry from her plate. "Alright, let's hear it."

Rachel flipped open her binder and started pulling out all of her plans. "We have invitations and the guest list; I will handle that. Location is set. Becca, can you do a theme? I made a list you can choose from," she handed Becca a laminated piece of paper, "Sam, Jared, can you get drinks pleeeease?"

"Whatever you need, Rach," Sam chuckled.

She squealed in delight and clapped her hands before flipping the page, "Ok so that's done. Becca and I will choose a date. Leah will take pictures, of course, and—,"

"Leah will do what?" I choked a little on my strawberry milkshake.

Rachel looked up at me with her sweet innocent brown eyes and winced a little. She fiddled with one of the binder sheets before she flashed a nervous smile before throwing a glare at Bex. "I thought you talked to her about this," she whispered.

"I forgot," Becca shrugged.

"No one talked to me about anything," I answered, my eyes darting between both of them.

"Leah doesn't really take pictures anymore," Sam said, putting an arm around my shoulders. It felt heavy, just like his words.

Jared spoke up, "I don't even remember the last time I saw Leah with a camera."

"That's because S—" Bex started to snipe.

Rachel knocked her knuckles on the table, "Hello! Let's bring our attention back to the topic!" she exclaimed before it got too serious. I heard Paul snort from the other side of me. She leaned forward and looked directly into my eyes. "Lee, this is our last birthday party as a group. Who knows if we'll be able to do this next year with college and everything? You know, we love your photography and I just want to keep these memories forever. Pretty please? For us?"

I sighed. I could feel all of their eyes on me. Especially Sam's and especially Paul's. I hadn't picked up my camera in over a year. I had always been the keeper of all of our memories because that's what I loved. For as long as I could remember, I was taking pictures of everything. But that was then. We all kind of grow up and those things kind take a lesser priority to other things. But Rachel did have a point. She and Bex were the last ones of us to turn 18 and, as the daughters of the Chief, it was a big deal.

Right as I was about to answer, Allison showed up back, leaning against the booth, "How are you guys doing over here?" she asked. "Can I get two of you strong boys to help me with some heavy boxes in the back?"

I hated to say it, but it felt like a lot of pressure to answer Rachel's request in front of everyone so thank God for Allison. Mostly, it felt like two separate expectations of me and it could very easily split me in half. When it came to photography, something that I loved with everything in me, Sam thought of it as just a hobby, instead of a passion. He didn't find it practical. But it seemed like everyone else understood it as what I loved and had always used as a method of my own expression. Rachel and Rebecca knew why I put away my camera, but no one wanted to talk about that.

Sam and Jared offered to help Allison and swiftly left the booth, so it was just me, Paul, and the girls. I sipped my milkshake more, eyes trained on the table. Bex nudged me lightly, "So what do you say?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Leah. I wasn't really thinking about it," Rachel spoke, her voice a little panicky.

"It's fine, Rach, don't worry about it," I said, shaking my head. "I'll do it."

She gasped, excitedly. "You will?"

"Of course. You're my best friends; I'll do anything you need me to."

"I don't see why this is a big deal," Paul spoke up with his mouth full. "Why wouldn't Leah do photos for the black party? She always does photos for the black party."

Rachel and Rebecca exchanged a look before turning to me. "Does he not know the story?" Rachel's poor attempt at a whisper made Bex roll her eyes.

"What story?" Paul asked.

"There's no story," I said right as Rachel started to tell Paul about what happened the day that I put my camera away. I watched as he looked at me suspiciously, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I just don't have much time for it anymore."

Bex made a small hum of disapproval before shaking her head. Paul could always see through my bullshit, even when we were kids. I couldn't bring myself to look at him because I could already feel his energy directed toward me. It was shouting at me that I was full of shit. Since we had decided to be friends again, I was more and more aware of him than before. "What else needs to be done, Rach?" Bex tried to change the subject.

The black party was honestly the most fun party of the year. When Sarah Black was alive, she would throw the most creative parties for the twins and for Jacob. After she passed away, Rachel still wanted to continue that tradition because she wanted so much to make things feel normal. So, every year, Rachel pooled all of us together to plan the perfect birthday party. When we were 14, Rach and Bex decided to make it a black party; everyone _had _to wear black. It was their only rule.

The reason I said yes to taking photos for the black party was because Rachel and Rebecca never ask me for anything. They would never ask me to do something if they felt like I was 100% not on board. This was their night and I wanted to be there for them no matter what.

Rachel shuffled through her book more, checking things off of her list. She tucked a strand of her highlighted hair behind her ear, humming to herself. Then she stopped, bit her lip, and looked directly at Paul. He was picking apart the rest of his burger, his face twisted. Rachel cleared her throat to get his attention. No luck. Paul pushed his plate away from him before taking a sip of his water. "Paul, sweetie?" Rachel said.

"Yes, Rachel honey?" Paul looked up, amused. Rachel let out a nervous chuckle before pleading with her eyes, not saying a word. Paul raised an eyebrow, smirking. "No," he said.

"Please?" she begged. She pushed a picture of a really extravagant cake in front of him. It was a two-layer cake with blush pink icing roses covering the whole thing, macaroons and chocolate covered strawberries surrounding the bottom, and a glittery 18 on the top. "It obviously doesn't have to be this extra, but doesn't this just give you total inspiration?"

"Do you know how expensive it is to build a cake like this?" Paul said, pointing at the picture. "Rachel, are you kidding?"

Bex sighed before looking at Paul, "Ok, so here's what we're thinking," she started, "We will pay for everything you need to do the cake. You can even use our kitchen, if you need it. We just think it would be so special if you made our cake this year."

"You'll have full creative control," Rachel chimed in.

Paul thought about it for a second; I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "I'll help you," I offered. Becca whipped around to look at me, her face intrigued. "I know it's not easy to do so…if you need help, I don't mind."

"I bet," Bex mumbled under her breath. I jabbed her with my elbow as she snickered a little. Paul blew out a breath, looking at the picture of the cake again. He studied it for a bit before rolling his eyes. "Alright," he finally agreed. Rachel did a little dance in her chair. "On one condition," he said.

"What?" Bex asked.

"I want full control of the menu too," he said, shrugging. "If this is the last black party, I want to do all of the food, not just the cake."

"Deal," the twins said.

Sam and Jared came into view, Sam with a fuming look on his face. Jared's body language screamed concern as they made their way back to the table. Sam's hands were shaking hard as he stood in front of our booth. "Come on, Leah, we gotta go."

"Huh? What's wrong?" I asked, confused. "What happened?"

"God, why does it always have to be questions? Leah, let's go," he snapped, slamming his hands on the table. The dishes on the tables actually lifted off of the table and landed with a loud clatter. Paul's glass fell over, the water spilling into mine and Becca's laps. We both gasped, trying to clean it up as fast as we could. "Now."

"Sam, what the fuck is your problem, man?" Paul stood, the table scooting forward abruptly. "She's a person, not a fucking rag doll."

"This isn't your business, Paul," Sam glared.

"You blew up for no reason, Sam. Go cool off or something. Don't talk to Leah that way, though," Jared said, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam bucked Jared away from him, his body shaking harder.

He never took his eyes off of me. He slowly took a deep breath before letting it out. "Lee Lee," he strained. "Can we please go?"

"What is going on?" I asked, not moving.

Jared started to explain that Allison cautiously confronted Sam about his behavior while they were moving boxes in the back of the diner. And just like with me, he snapped at her for asking too many questions. It was the same old song and dance. How long was it going to be like this? His own mother couldn't ask him why he wasn't acting like himself? As Jared spoke, Sam started to shake again, the tips of his ears turning red. "And then Allison asked if he was treating everyone the way he was treating her…if you were putting up with this behavior," Jared finished, addressing me directly. "And then he stormed away…"

"Samuel," Allison called from behind the bar.

"I want to leave. Are you coming or not?" Sam asked, gritting his teeth.

"Absolutely not," Bex answered for me.

"Leah," he snapped.

"Back off," Paul said. I felt frozen in my seat. "I'll make sure Leah gets home."

Sam and I stared at each other, both of us not moving. Who was this person? He seemed to be demanding that I come with him without saying a word. All I wanted was to understand. I just shook my head. He blinked once in disbelief. If I could mark the beginning of the end of my relationship with Sam, it was right then. All I've ever done for him was go along with whatever he wanted. We watched what he wanted to watch, we went out when he wanted to go out. We left when he was ready to go. As I sat planted in my seat, I felt the entire dynamic of my relationship change.

Sam walked out the door without another word, the bell above the door ringing aggressively as he stalked out.

XXXXXXXXX

"Why don't you still take pictures?" he asked me one afternoon. Paul and I were sitting on my back porch. It had been a week after Sam walked out of the diner. He didn't come back. A lot happened in that week. I had finally confronted my father about why the council was 'handling' Sam's disappearance and not the police; he brushed me off and told me that there were things going on that I didn't understand and, according to him, didn't need to understand. Never in my life had I ever been angry with my father until that day.

So, I started to stay out more to distract myself. Paul and Rebecca were like my saving grace. When I wasn't with Rebecca and Rachel at their house, I would wait until Paul would show up to my house for dinner so he could pretty much be my buffer. He had this way of calming me down when I was frustrated. It felt like every day my frustration with Sam and my father was just building and piling. Dad said that they were keeping an eye on Sam and that he would be fine. But what did that really mean? Did that mean everything would go back to normal soon? Why did they know where Sam was but not telling anyone? It was better to just distract myself as best as I could.

Photography used to be one of my favorite things in the world. It was something that my father and I bonded over. He loved pictures about as much as I did. He bought me my first camera when I was 13, but, over the years, my mother felt like it was too much of a distraction and I needed to start thinking of more practical ways to spend my time. Sam never really understood it either. He would always call it silly and roll his eyes playfully when I would pull my camera out around him. After a while, I would only take pictures when I was with my father or when I was alone. And then one day, I just stopped. "Just don't," I answered.

"Why not? You're so good," he bumped my shoulder. "Maybe you should pick up photography again when you get to Miami."

I giggled, "I haven't decided on Miami yet."

"Seems like a no brainer to me," he shrugged. "The sun, the beach, the parties…"

"Yeah well, things are a lot simpler in the mind of Paul Lahote than they are for me. My mom will be crushed when I tell her that I want to leave."

"God, Lee, I gotta start teaching you to live for yourself," he chuckled. "Where's your camera?"

"It's upstairs in my closet," I answered, watching as it started to rain.

"Go get it," he told me.

"Uh, no," I said immediately. I remember the day I put my camera away for good. Sam and I were walking on one of the very few marked trails in the woods. It started to storm outside and, by some miracle, I got these really cool shots of the rain falling around the trees. Sam was trying to pull me away when the lightning hit, and I had managed to get two good shots of the flash before he fully got me to hurry inside. The lightning wasn't even close to touching me, but that didn't stop Sam from being annoyed with me. He told me that a dumb hobby wasn't worth my life. When I told him it wasn't a big deal, he sighed and pulled me into a hug and told me he didn't know what he would do if something were to happen to me for being careless.

That day, I put my camera in my memory box and tucked it away in my closet. I still loved photography, but I had moved from taking the pictures to studying them. I wanted to study art history in college and maybe run my own gallery one day or work in a museum or something. "Go get your camera, Lee," he insisted.

"No, Paul," I rolled my eyes. As supportive as Paul was, he was pushy as hell.

Paul stood up and stretched himself. I looked over right as his shirt raised up as his arms stretched over his head. His abs peaked out for just a brief second before he dropped his arms to his side. Damn… "That's fine," he said, strained from his stretch. "I'll go get it."

Paul took off running into the house and up the stairs toward my bedroom. "Wait, no!" I exclaimed, running after him. "Paul, don't!"

"Guys, no running in the house!" my mother called from the living room.

Paul took the steps three at a time before turning left down to the end of the hall. He swung my bedroom door open and immediately went to my closet. I ran in right as he reached up to the top of my closet and started moving my shoes out of the way. My sandals clattered to the floor as he grabbed my memory box. It was just a decorated shoe box, but it held everything that I held dear. An old journal from my childhood, polaroids of me with my friends and with Sam, a saved rose from when Sam and I started dating. And my camera with all of my full memory cards. "No, Paul, please don't," I laugh-begged, attempting to reach around him. When that didn't work, I ducked under his arm and tried to push my memory box away from him.

He laughed as he wrapped an arm around my waist to pick me up and move me out of the way. He grabbed the box and turned around right as I ran up on him again, reaching for it. He held it over his head as he easily fended me off. I jumped up to grab it, damning him for being so much taller than me. Paul looked at me, his eyes dancing in amusement. I stopped jumping when I realized how close I was to him. With me reaching up, my chest was pressed against his and our faces were really close. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "I just want to see it for a second," he said, moving around me. He plopped himself on my bed and flipped open my box.

My Nikon D3500 was exactly the way I left it. There was a little dark gray wolf sticker on one side of the lens and a little, pink, painted flower on the other side. Both placed by my dear sweet Rachel because she wanted it to be unique. He picked it up and held it out to me. "What are you doing?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"I'm ready for the fun Leah to come back," he remarked, cradling my camera in his hands. It was the first time I'd seen it in over a year and when he turned it on, I felt a little flutter in my stomach. He played with it for a second, holding it up to his eye and pointing it at me. I held up my hand to shield my face, giggling a little. "I remember a day when you wouldn't leave the house without this thing. Now it's just sitting in a box? What's that about?"

"It just got to be silly after a while," I said, scuffing my shoes on the floor a little bit.

"Is that what you say or is that what Sam says?" he asked, pushing buttons on my Nikon. "Wow, this is the last shot you took? This is incredible, Lee."

I glanced over to see what he was seeing, and my face slacked in surprise. The lightning, which was cracking right in the middle, had lit the sky up purple as the rain perfectly framed the lens. The trees looked like skyscrapers with beautiful foliage. "Whoa…" I breathed.

"Lee, you have such a good eye. Why did you give that up?" I could feel him looking at me. It was a good question.

I bit my bottom lip before turning to my desk and opening my drawer. Sitting at the top was my acceptance to Miami and I felt myself sigh quietly. I grabbed the stack of acceptance letters and held them to my chest. "Just like all of the other things that I want to do with my life," I said, turning back to him. "It's not in their plan for me."

He snorted, "That's stupid."

"Thank you, Paul," I said, sarcastically.

He raised an eyebrow at me before standing up. He towered over me, but it was never in an intimidating way. He gently held my wrists as he pulled my letters into view. Paul sifted through the letters and let out an impressive whistle. "That's a lot of yeses," he commented, nodding in approval. "The whole world's at your fingertips right now."

"It's not like it matters," I shrugged. "My parents aren't going to go for it. Sam's not going to go for it. He can't stand the thought of leaving home."

"Who gives a shit what Sam thinks?" Paul raised his voice a little. "He's supposed to support your dreams, not squash them."

"You say that like that's going to change how he thinks. You know how he is," I said, shaking my head. "Plus, that's your brother. Don't you care what he thinks?"

"Sam needs to act like a brother for me to consider him one. He has not been acting like my brother lately," Paul rolled his eyes.

I pursed my lips before turning my back to him and putting my letters back in my desk.

"He's not even here. He hasn't been around in days. Why is he still a factor for you?" Paul asked.

"Paul, please don't do this to me right now. You know it's not that simple," I begged. I placed my hands on top of my desk and hung my head. Paul put his hands on my hips and spun me around until I was facing him again.

His face was a little tight as he worked through what he was going to say next. His fingers gripped my hips a little before he swallowed hard. "I feel like if I don't say this, I'll regret it," he started. "You're too big for this place. You deserve a chance to explore what makes the world good. Don't let Sam or your parents stop you from getting out of here, if that's what you truly want. I just don't see you as the girl who comes back to La Push and lives in her childhood house, driving her minivan with three kids and a dog. People pleasing is only going to make you miserable; I _need _you to understand that."

"Why?" I asked quietly.

He furrowed his eyebrows a little. "Because I care about you, Leah," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I know you. You're not going to be happy settling for teaching art at the high school in ten years. You used to be the girl who let you know what she was thinking at every second, at any moment. You've always been sure of what you want. Since when do you let people dictate what you do with your life?"

He was so close to me, I couldn't answer his question. My skin was tingling under his fingertips and if I breathed just deep enough, I could probably smell vanilla on him like always. My feet scooted forward just a little. Closer to him. No one had ever talked to me like this. No one had ever called me out for pretty much putting myself on the back burner to please everyone else. Well…with the exception of Rebecca, but that conversation always felt different. Anytime I felt upset about no one understanding what I really wanted, she would say, "Who fucking _caaaares_? Do what makes you happy. Point blank period."

Paul glanced down at the space—or lack thereof—between us. He dropped his hands from my hips and cleared his throat, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. I took a step back, looking just over his shoulder. "Look…" he said, "I think you just need to put yourself first sometimes. You're too talented to throw your passions away for some guy who's proving himself to be inconsistent and inconsiderate. I don't care how long I've known Sam; he's acting like an asshole."

My phone dinged from my back pocket, breaking the tension. "I understand what you're saying," I nodded. "It's just a bad habit to break. Go easy on me."

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw a text from Rachel in our group chat. _Taking dad's boat out tomorrow. You down?_

"You need to go easy on yourself, Lee," he countered, sitting on my bed again.

"You wanna go on the boat tomorrow?" I asked him, changing the subject.

He shrugged, looking around my room. I text Rachel back before setting my phone down. We sat in silence; my brother watching _Family Guy _in his room and the murmurings of my parents talking downstairs were the only sounds filling the room. "Are you mad at me now?" I asked him.

"No…of course not," he said, looking at me. "You just deserve more, that's all."

XXXXXXXXX

Paul spent the night at my house that night, taking up space on the couch in the living room. His parents hadn't been home in days on another bender and my parents get worried about him staying home by himself all the time. So, the next morning, after he whipped up some chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs, I was sitting cross legged on the couch and Paul was sitting on the floor next to me. He was like a giant kid; he loved cartoons on weekend mornings before the world got busy again. Before things get complicated.

Since our talk the night before, I felt myself itching to take pictures again. My camera sat next to me as I analyzed everything around me. I was hoping to get some good shots while we were out on the boat; I felt out of practice. _Looney Tunes _kept Paul entertained as I listened to the heavy footfalls of my father coming down the stairs. Things had been awkward between me and my dad and I hated that. "Smells great down here! I hope there's enough for all of us," he commented when he hit the bottom step.

"I put extra chocolate chips this time," Paul called, never taking his eyes off the television. His hair was a mess from sleep, and his muscles bulged against his tight shirt. I watched as he uncrossed and crossed his feet. My mother and brother came downstairs to eat, but they stayed at the kitchen table. "What time are we leaving?" Paul asked.

We ended up leaving to go to the marina at noon. I may or may not have put on my cutest bikini for the day; it was an emerald green two piece, the top a halter with gold detailing and the bottoms had little ties on the side. I put a humble cover dress over it while we were walking, my Nikon hanging around my neck. Rachel and Rebecca met me right outside of Paul's house when he ran in to grab a bottle of his parents' liquor. Usually, they never noticed when alcohol went missing because we found a way to replace it by the time they came back from their benders. Rebecca boldly stood in a tiny, black string bikini, cutoff jean short shorts kind of covering her bottom, while Rachel stood in a modest sundress. "I called Jared, but he didn't answer," Rachel said, shrugging. "It's just the four of us."

"Oh, I bet Paul will love that," Becca joked. "Three girls all to himself in bikinis on the open water? It's like a wet dream."

I giggled at her, shaking my head. Paul jogs out of his house, a bottle of rum tucked under his arm and a sleeve of red solo cups under the other. He had changed his clothes to something more suitable for being on the boat.

We had all learn to sail years ago. Billy, my dad, and the sheriff of the Forks police department, Charlie Swan, frequented fishing trips at every chance they could. By the time we were 14, the parents let us drive the boats on our own because we were experts by then.

It was such a fun afternoon. The sun had come out, music was playing, we were laughing, and I had finally taken some good shots while we were out on the water. Being around my girls and Paul was the more natural and carefree I'd felt in weeks. When Paul sat next to me on the portside, Bex teased him a little bit. "Leave a little room for the Holy Spirit, guys," she'd said, gesturing to our thighs almost touching. He'd laughed it off, but I did notice when he scooted over just an inch or two.

Rachel and Rebecca had gotten matching tattoos of anchors breaking through a wave of water on their rib cages as an early birthday present to each other, so I made sure to get some pictures of them together. Two girls that had been inseparable their entire lives wanted to commemorate their bond to one another. They were each other's anchors and I hoped, after we graduated, they would always keep that.

That afternoon, we listened to Rachel prattle on and on about the black party, which was about a month away. I was lounging in the sun while Rachel told us how excited she was about their 18th birthday. I was barely listening, but I loved hearing how excited she was. When Rachel decided to set her sights on talking to Paul about the cake and the food, I slipped next to Becca at the helm. She glanced back at Rach and Paul before chuckling to herself, tapping her fingers on the wheel. "What?" I said.

"That boy is sweet on you," was all she said, pushing her sunglasses up on her face.

We got back to the marina just after sunset. Paul jumped off of Billy's boat before holding out his hand to help down Rachel, then Bex, then me. Our hands lingered for a second before I dropped mine to my side. We reached the Black's house first, saying good night to the twins. Then, once again, it was just me and Paul. He took a swig of the rum before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. We were walking so slow toward both of our houses; offering me the bottle, Paul nudged me. "You good?" he asked.

"Yup," I nodded, still kind of thinking about what Bex said on the boat. I took the bottle and tipped it toward my mouth. It burned my throat and my chest as I swallowed. "Are you?"

He shrugged, grabbing the rum from my hand. The quiet was nice. We never needed to talk much. It was only when both of our houses came into view that I felt a need to break our comfortable silence. Paul visibly tensed beside me as we saw Diana and Randall's beat up red Ford Focus in the driveway. They were back. Fuck.

"Um…are you sleeping over again tonight?" I asked him, putting a gentle hand on his arm. It made me nervous for Paul to be left alone with Diana and Randall. They were awful. Maybe if I offered him the couch, he wouldn't even walk into that house. As long as he didn't go home, they couldn't get to him. They never dared coming to our house to look for Paul. It was almost like their son was out of sight, out of mind.

Almost as if he was sensed, Randall swung the front door open and stepped out on the porch in a dirty wifebeater with a hole at the bottom and a lit cigarette in his mouth. He was easily the scariest man I'd ever seen in my life. I didn't understand how someone as caring and attentive as Paul could come from someone like Randall Lahote. Other than the dimple in his chin, Paul looked nothing like Randall. Randall's eyes were hard, empty, and dark. Not brown, just dark. He was so big and tall, it was menacing. He leaned his hands on the railing, his eyes targeted dead on both of us. Too late. Paul discreetly hid the rum bottle behind his back, pushing it into my hand. "Take it and dump it," he told me, his lips barely moving and his eyes locked with his father. Randall crooked his finger to motion for Paul to come into the house.

"Please don't go in there," I pleaded. "Just come home with me."

"Leah," he warned. I knew better than to show Randall any kind of emotion when he spotted us. He was like a fucking mountain lion or a bear. He could smell fear from miles away. Paul started toward the house, his jaw clenched. I grabbed his arm with my free hand even though I knew better. Randall seeing us together was bad enough, but to touch Paul was completely unacceptable. He took purposeful steps toward the house, me following behind, meekly. I just wanted him to be safe. Randall didn't move from his spot on the porch, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the yard. "Go home, Leah," Paul said. His tone was so final. There was no room to argue.

Paul climbed the porch steps, not bothering to look back at me. He breezed past Randall who spun around and pushed him in the back as they walked through the door. I heard from the inside, "Where have you been, little boy?" Diana. That mean bitch. Her voice was so husky from years and years of smoking.

"Out here with that little Clearwater bitch again," Randall asked before forcefully slamming the door shut, the bolt lock clicking in place. I stood there, staring at the heavy wooden door. The rum bottle was still in my hand and I strained to hear something on the other side of that door. After a few minutes, I pivoted on my heel to go back to my house. Randall and Diana scared the fuck out of me; I never knew what to do after any kind of encounter with them. Paul had a little bit of a temper, sure, but there's no way that he could ever be as angry and horrible as his parents.

I poured the rum out into the grass on the side of my house and dumped the bottle in the garbage bin under a trash bag. Setting my camera down on the kitchen table, I felt my hands shake just a little. My parents were sitting on the back porch, having a little nightcap. My feet carried me until I was standing in front of them, wringing my hands anxiously. "What's wrong, honey?" my mom asked, setting her wine glass down.

"Where's Paul?" Daddy asked.

I could barely bring myself to speak; my throat felt so dry. "Randall…and Diana…" I choked out.

My father cursed under his breath. "Are they back?" he asked.

I nodded, frantically. "You need to go get him," I said to my father. "You need to go get Paul right now."

"I…" my father sighed before cursing again. He ran a hand over his face, frustrated. Dad looked at Mom and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to do about those two."

"It might be time to consider moving Paul in permanently," my mother suggested. Long overdue.

"You know they won't go for that," he said.

"Go get him!" I exclaimed. "What if they hurt him again? Why are you still sitting there?"

"I can't just burst into their house, Leah," my father tried to explain. "Go ahead and go upstairs; try to relax yourself. I'll handle Diana and Randall, I promise."

I watched his face and just couldn't believe that he hadn't immediately jumped into action. He just sat there, mulling it over. I understood that it got more complicated as we got older, but the older we got, the worse Diana and Randall treated Paul. Like they knew he could handle worse as he got bigger, got stronger. My father usually stepped in as fast as he could to diffuse them. Why wasn't he doing that right now? "Just like you're 'handling' Sam?" I said before I could stop myself. Shaking my head, I went back into the house and locked myself in my bedroom. I'll never forget the look of bewilderment on my father's face as I passed him.

Never in my life had I ever been this frustrated with my father. We used to be so open with one another and then all of a sudden, everything was just a big secret. He wanted to "handle" things. He wanted me to not ask him questions. My father was my favorite person in the world, but all of these secrets between us made us feel like strangers.

I stayed up all night, waiting for a call or a text from Paul saying that he was alright. But nothing. I remember falling asleep while I was reading—or attempting to read. I couldn't focus for more than a few seconds at a time before I had burned up all of my anxious energy and fell asleep. I was worried about him. More than I had worried about Sam disappearing, if I'm being really transparent.

At about 2:30 in the morning, there was a small tapping at my window. One tap. Another tap. And another tap. I blinked my eyes awake before rushing to my window. Looking down, I saw as Paul set down the rest of the pebbles from his hand. He didn't look up at me; he just pointed to the backdoor and walked toward it. I hurried down the stairs as fast as I could and pulled the door open. He stood there with his head down and I just knew it was bad. He sniffled a little bit before shaking his head as I reached for him. I ignored him, lifting his chin with my hand anyway.

His bottom lip was busted. His left eye was swollen and blacked. Blood was drying on the front of his shirt. His knuckles were bruised. He fought back this time. "Oh my god…" I whispered, pulling him into the house.

"It's not that bad," he tried to reason with me. I led him into the kitchen and made him sit at the table.

"Have you seen your face?" I asked, digging in the cabinet for the first aid kit. He let me clean up his face with little to no protest. I shook my head as his tongue darted out to the cut on his lip; he winced. I sat on my knees between his legs and I started to clean his lip with soap and water, hating Randall more and more every second. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I grabbed an ice pack and popped it until it became cold in my hand. I shook it before holding it out to him. He wouldn't look at me while he pressed the ice pack to his face. "I knew better," he said, his voice hard. "I shouldn't have taken that bottle."

"Don't do that," I said, watching his face. "Don't justify their fucked-up behavior."

He sighed as his head hung low. "I don't know what set the fire this time. Him seeing me with that bottle or seeing me with you. When I heard what he called you, I snapped. That just made it worse."

"You can stay here as long as you need to," I reassured him. He just nodded his head, but still didn't look at me. I got him settled on the couch, where we had just been a little over 12 hours ago, comfortable and comforted, "I'll go get you some blankets and some clean clothes. You can jump in the shower whenever you're ready."

I started to walk away when he caught my wrist. When I looked back, I was met with his amber eyes, so haunted and hurt. "Can you just sit with me for a second?" he asked. He let me hold his hand, but that was it. I gently brushed my finger along the palm of his hand as he quietly sniffled to himself. I knew better than to look at him when he was crying. The quickest way to make Paul shut down was to openly acknowledge his pain. "I don't know what I did to make them hate me so much."

Squeezing his hand, I rested my head on his shoulder. "You didn't do anything, Paul," I told him. "They just wish they had the heart that you do."

It hurt to see him hurt. I was always surprised to see how vulnerable he allowed himself to be. That didn't matter though. If I could be there for him for even one second, I would make sure that, in that one second, he didn't feel alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh, I remember a day when I could hang out in my own house in peace. Those days are over.

"It's just 'rock, paper, scissors,' dummy," he argued.

"No, it's not! It's 'rock, paper scissors, shoot.' You're cheating!" I heard Seth exclaim.

5 grown sized people versus 1 bathroom. It was brutal. Paul hadn't slept at his house since his last showdown with his parents and I was happy that he had decided to take refuge with us. But if I had to listen to him and Seth argue over the bathroom one more time, I was going to lose my mind. "I'm not cheating, Seth. You're just an idiot," Paul said.

Sitting downstairs, I rolled my eyes at their antics. I had taken up space at the kitchen table, editing my photos of Rachel and Rebecca for their birthday. Randomly one night, I had this idea of compiling all of the pictures I'd taken of them over the years and displaying them on projectors at the party. When I talked to Rachel about it, she squealed so loud on the phone, I thought the microphone might burst. We also decided to have a little photobooth so that we could all take home memories while I took photos of people enjoying the party. I was really getting into this whole party planning thing.

As I was editing a picture of Rach and Bex holding hands, jumping off the high cliff, Paul and Seth continued to argue upstairs about who got to go to the bathroom first. They thought that a rock, paper, scissors game would help them to decide; who knew that they would find some way to screw that up? "It's 1, 2, 3, shoot. Why would you say 'scissors' and then throw something that's not scissors? That doesn't even make sense!" Seth pressed.

"Why would you say 'shoot'? What does that even mean?" Paul countered, sounding bored at this point.

"Because…well, because—you just—Leah!" Seth called in frustration.

"Leah!" Paul mocked him in a high-pitched voice before I heard a door shut. Seth groaned loudly before banging on the bathroom door. I chuckled lightly before going back to what I was doing.

Things weren't that different, really. Paul already had a seat at the table and a place to sleep. I just had a new person to drive me to school. I had a person to relax with. I had a person who would sneak upstairs at night and talk to me until the sun came up. Paul made me laugh, he made me think, and he helped me to dream. And I think I helped him to dream too.

The day after Randall hit him, Paul and I snuck into his bedroom window to steal some clothes; I had to beg him to let me go with him. Paul told me that there was nothing that I could do to protect him if we got caught, but I was living on the blind faith that they wouldn't try anything if I was with him. When we got there, Randall and Diana were screaming at each other and breaking glass every few seconds. It was horrible.

_Paul wrapped an arm around my waist as he pulled me through his open window. He set me down on the floor, holding a finger to his lips. "Shhh…" he shushed really quietly. I nodded as my eyes adjusted to the dark. His full bed was pushed up against a far corner of the room and articles of clothing covered the rest of the floor. The only lamp sat on the floor next to his bed, but neither one of us dared to touch it. Paul reached for the door and quietly locked it._

_Glass shattered from somewhere else in the house. "You're such an asshole, Rand! I fucking hate you!" Diana shrieked._

"_Oh, you hate me? Get in line, cupcake," Randall snarled._

_Paul just shook his head before tip toeing to his closet and grabbing an old football bag. I bent at the waist, running my hands over the clothes to find things that would keep him comfortable. Sweatshirts and hoodies, jeans, hopefully some clean boxers. As I threw random clothes toward Paul, he caught them with ease and shoved them inside his bag. "You ruined my life, you piece of shit! Go fuck one of your whores! Leave me alone!" Diana yelled._

_The more they screamed at each other, the quicker Paul packed so we could get out of there. He worked pretty diligently, muttering to himself. "Fuck you both…" I heard him say as he zipped his duffle bag and threw it out the window. Paul walked over to his bed and lifted his mattress. I watched him slip a hand under it and feel around for a while. He froze as he heard footsteps and then the shattering of more glass. "Stop breaking shit, Diana! Damn!" Randall's voice felt like a fucking bomb, it was so loud. Paul and I looked at each other and he willed me not to move. Don't even breathe. Randall stormed past Paul's bedroom door and slammed another door so loud, it rattled the walls. I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes for a second._

_Paul grabbed my hand to pull me toward the window. He had a slight panicked look on his face, like he knew what was about to happen. Before I could ask, he lifted me until I was sitting on the windowsill so I could climb out. He hopped out right behind me before clasping my hand, grabbing his bag, and running us toward my house. _

That was a week and a half ago; I had been in that house for five minutes and was shaken to my core. How would Paul have survived if the rest of the reservation hadn't gathered together to take care of him?

Seth came downstairs grumbling under his breath. He started opening and closing cabinets before settling on snacking on a bag of chips. "I don't know why you let him fluster you, Bub," I commented, chuckling a little.

The doorbell rang. I got up and walked over to the door. Rachel and Rebecca were supposed to come over to hang out and study for midterms. Midterms, spring break, Rachel and Rebecca's birthday, prom, graduation. It was easy to think of everything in succession like that. They were steppingstones, not life changing events, you know?

Every day, it was like I was soaking up every extra moment I had with my best friends. I already knew that I would visit Bex as much as possible when she left for Hawaii. It was strange to think about not seeing them every day. The three of us were sitting around the coffee table, books out, not even paying attention to them. Bex was going on and on about this new guy she had been seeing. Well, not really new. She had recently started talking to the guy that worked at the good tattoo shop in Port Angeles. "He's like 21, Bex. What do you guys even do?" my sweet Rachel asked. Becca wiggled her eyebrows at her twin. Rachel looked so confused for a second before she gasped, "Rebecca!"

Bex and I laughed at Rachel as her russet skin blushed bright red. She started to hide her face with her hair, her shoulders shaking a little with laughter. "Sex is a beautiful thing, my dear twin," Bex commented. "Love it, embrace it, have a lot of it all the time."

"But what about the first time with the one you love? Doesn't that make it more special? To be with one person forever?" Rachel asked.

"I just don't think there's anything wrong with having some fun," Becca said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, what do you think, Leah? Should sex just be a free for all or should it be intimate with one person? You and Sam were each other's firsts. Wasn't that special?"

A deep chuckle came from the kitchen as the fridge opened. The hiss and click of a can opening filled the silence as we all looked to see Paul chuckling to himself. "Do you have something to say?" I asked, sarcastically.

Paul took a sip from a soda can before locking eyes with me, "Nope." He walked over and sat next to me on the floor. He flicked my ear before bumping my shoulder. I swatted at his hand before bumping him back. He looked at me, expectantly. "Well?"

"Yes, Lee, we would _looove _to know your thoughts," Bex chimed in.

So…the twins were polar opposites if you couldn't tell. And I sat right in the middle of them. I had only been with two people in my entire life as compared to Rebecca's 10 and Rachel's 0. Rachel was more conservative in nature; both of their definitions of "your body is a temple" were completely different. And that was fine. That was why I needed both of them. That sliding scale is slippery; one kept me grounded and one kept me free. "I think…" I started, carefully, "that my first time was special, and I wouldn't change it. Because…when it's right, it's right, you know?"

Rebecca started laughing as I palmed my forehead. "See?" Rachel pointed out. "Leah thinks sex should be special."

"Can we change the subject please?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"I think we should keep talking about this," Bex laughed.

"Me too, actually," Paul said, looking at me with a small smirk on his face.

I looked at him and noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed. Donning a pair of dark jeans, a black shirt, his worn-down motorcycle boots, and a jean jacket, he looked good for his day. But hadn't said anything about stepping out. "Are you leaving?" I asked, gesturing to his appearance.

He glanced down, "Uh, yeah, I'm just going out for a second."

"By yourself?"

As if to answer my question, the doorbell rang. He hopped up quickly, "No, but I'll see you guys later, alright?" He made a swift exit leaving no time for questions.

Becca and I glanced at each other before jumping up to spy out the front window behind the couch. Paul had his hands shoved in his front pockets as he walked toward a little red Volkswagen Beetle…with a girl. Her true black hair was pulled into a side ponytail and she was dressed in the tightest pair of jeans I had ever seen and a baby blue off the shoulder top. I watched as she placed a hand on his shoulder and casually reached up to kiss his cheek. He leaned away before she could make contact and swung open the passenger's side door for her. Her face was caked with makeup as usual. "Is that…?" Becca stopped as I nodded.

"Olivia Alister," I finished. Paul walked around to the driver's side, looking around before hopping in and rolling down the driveway. It was only when the VW Bug was out of sight that I could get my dropped jaw off the ground. He was seeing Olivia Alister again?

"Wait—,"

"Bex, don't start," I said.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked behind us.

"No, no, no, I don't get it," Becca said, facing me. "What is he doing with Olivia?"

"Becca, I already told you it's not a thing," I tried to reason with her.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked again.

"I'm never wrong about this stuff, Lee. You know this."

"Let it go. Now." I turned around and plopped on the couch, feeling a little disheartened.

"Guys!" Rachel called. We looked up at her confused face. "What's the problem?"

"Leah likes Paul again," Rebecca blurted. She exclaimed an 'ow' when I smacked her hard on the arm. Rachel's eyes widened. "What? It's true! And he likes her too."

"Rebecca!" I scolded. "Stop!"

So, remember when I told you that Paul and Olivia got caught having sex on a teacher's desk during first lunch? That was kind of the impetus for an on again, off again friends with benefits things. He never brought her around us, but we always knew when they were hooking up. She wasn't exactly the most subtle person; Olivia liked to brag about being with Paul. Which…if I'm honest, that's not a great feat. Paul liked to fuck a lot of people. I think she thought she was the closest thing he'd ever been to a relationship. I remember the last time they were hooking up over the summer, she walked up to me with the most brazen look on her face and said, "Have you seen Paul? I left my panties in his bedroom by mistake." Sure, Olivia.

We all didn't like Paul and Olivia's situation, but Paul was always going to do what Paul wanted to do. Whenever he was seeing anyone else, he'd bring them around, have them on his arm, and do normal courting things. But Olivia was different; she hadn't been around in a while, so I guess I thought it was over.

"Is that true, Lee?" Rachel asked me in a gentle tone. She stood from the floor and sat next to me on the couch. "Do you have feelings for Paul?"

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders.

"You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately. You obviously care about each other. He's defended you more times than I can count through this whole Sam thing. Has he said anything about how he feels about you?" Rachel reached up to stroke the back of my hand in comfort. She was truly the gentlest soul I'd ever known.

I shook my head, "No."

"Is it over with Sam?" she asked. I mumbled an 'I don't know.' "Well…do you want to know what I think?"

"Always," I answered.

She tempered her words for a second before speaking, "I think you've been more yourself lately than we've been able to see in a long time," she said. "I don't know if that's because of Paul or…something else, but you seem happier. More free, I guess. And it's wonderful to see. If Paul is the one making you happy, I don't think it would be the worst thing in the world to maybe explore that."

"Not if he's busy sticking his dick in Olivia Alister…" Bex mumbled.

Rachel rolled her eyes, ignoring her sister. "What about Sam? What's going on there?" she asked.

"I haven't talked to Sam in almost a month," I told her. "I don't even…I don't know…"

"Alright," Rachel sighed. "So just take it one day at a time. I think you do have more complex feelings for Paul than you might want to admit to yourself right now—"

"He's my friend," I interjected.

"Then just be friends. Until you know, for sure, what you want," Rachel said, taking my hand in hers. "And I think it's important to be honest. If him being with Olivia bothers you, you can tell him. And you'll both figure out where to go from there."

Becca put a comforting hand on my back as I rubbed my face in frustration. "She makes a good point, Lee," Bex said.

I looked at both of my girls and just said a quick thank you to every higher power that they could be in my life. While Rebecca could be a little more unfiltered, it was nice to hear them both tell me what they think without judgment. They wanted me to be happy. "I just don't want to lose him again," I felt myself say. Where did that come from?

"You won't," Bex assured me. "And if you do, then that means he wasn't meant to be. That there's something better out there for you. But you never know, Lee, he might surprise you."

XXXXXXXXX

I heard my bedroom door creak open late. His steps were quiet, but deliberate. "Lee?" he whispered. "Are you asleep?"

I was a light sleeper. So, I could always hear people coming up and down the stairs or going to the bathroom in the middle of the night or every occasion when Seth somehow falls out of his bed onto the floor. It didn't matter how quiet Paul thought he was, I could hear him.

Paul stood at the door for a beat or two before walking over to perch on the edge of my bed. He sighed a little; he ran his fingers through my hair, moving it from my face. "I was hoping you'd be up, but…I'm kind of glad you're not. I don't like that look you give me when I fuck up."

He didn't smell sweet. He smelled like faded Viva La Juicy and sweat. He was twirling a stand of my hair between his fingers as he spoke to me. "I ended things with Liv today. For good. My head is all mixed up, I guess. I thought I could distract myself from thinking about my best friend's girl and…that just didn't work." He sighed again. "So, I told Liv I couldn't see her anymore. And, uh, then she punched me in the chest and made me walk home. Consequence of catching feelings, huh?"

I feel like how my dad feels when he and Charlie Swan go deer hunting. Paul was the deer; easily frightened by sudden movements or even the slightest inkling that I was awake. So, I just laid there, letting him play with my hair and speak his mind. "I'm really glad you're asleep; I don't really want to think about what you would say if you were listening right now. I…I got feelings for you, Lee. But I know there's nothing I can do about it, you know? It is what it is. I think you're supposed to teach me something, but I don't know what it is yet. Maybe I need to sleep on it." He cupped my cheek and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before he stood up.

The sound of the doorknob turning made my eyes finally open. He was still completely dressed, his shoulders hunched just a little, in defeat. "You can stay in here with me," I said quietly before he could slip out of the door. His head whipped around and his face wore complete shock at my open eyes. I pulled the covers down on the other side of my queen bed before looking at him expectantly.

"That doesn't sound like a great idea, Leah," he whispered.

"Are you going to lay down or not?" I asked, turning my back to him to lie my head on my pillow. I didn't wait for him to make a decision; I just closed my eyes, feeling him stare at my back.

A minute or so later, I felt Paul slide into the bed next to me. He was lying on the edge as if he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. My eyes popped open. He was looking at me with those eyes. I held out my arm to urge him closer. He sighed before scooting closer, still maintaining his version of a healthy distance. Paul grabbed two pillows with his large hands and placed them between us. He gave me a look that said, "Don't try it." That's ok. I wouldn't push it; I just rested my hand on his torso to make sure he wouldn't bolt and closed my eyes again.

XXXXXXXXX

When I woke up, my face was buried in Paul's chest. His strong arm was draped over my waist and his chin was resting on the top of my head. Our legs were entangled, mine bare and his still dressed in jeans. Do I dare mention his little—not so little—morning issue? I normally wouldn't if it was just hard and still. But it wasn't. I could feel it pulsating and throbbing every minute. His muscular chest rose and fell with every even breath and his body was so warm.

I had slept so soundly that night that I didn't know at which point we had become so entwined in each other. He looked peaceful; he breathed a sigh of content as he rested. I felt as he unconsciously pulled me closer, flush against his body. I watched as his eyes fluttered open and met mine. His fingers bunched my loose t shirt into his fist before I saw him slowly blink, furrow his eyebrows, and then gasp as he threw himself out of the bed. "Oh fuck!" he said as his body hit the ground. He groaned a little in pain.

My head popped over the side, absolutely concerned. "Are you alright?" I asked, reaching for him. He recoiled from my touch, scooting on his butt closer to my window seat.

He shot to his feet, covering his area with his hand. "We were cuddling," he said, matter of factly. I narrowed my eyes in confusion before nodding. I asked him what his problem was when he started pacing. He didn't answer; he just kept looking at me and sighing loudly before dropping onto my window seat. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair before he hopped up. "This is not good," he said finally. "I put up a pillow wall. What happened to the pillow wall?"

"It was an accident. I-I'm sorry," I said, lowering my head.

"Shit," he mumbled before sliding on his knees toward the bed. "Don't apologize, Lee. _I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. It just felt so…so…"

"Comfortable?" I offered.

He studied my face for what felt like a lifetime before nodding. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. I wish I knew what he was thinking—actually, I wish he would keep saying out loud what he was thinking.

I replayed the conversation I had with Rach and Becca the day before. They told me that I needed to be honest with him, but that would mean that I would have to admit some things to myself first. My heart had skipped a beat when Paul said that he had feelings for me. He wasn't the type to just spend this much time with anyone. We weren't just spending time together; he let me see parts of him that he was always too proud to show other people. He had faith in me that I wouldn't judge him the same way he never judged me. It was honestly so nice to be unabashedly myself around someone.

But this moment? It felt like a standoff. Who was going to speak first? Paul's eyes trailed down to my oversized shirt, fiddling with the material between his fingers. It was Sam's from some football camp a million years ago. Somehow still a barrier even if he wasn't physically present. I didn't even think about it when I put it on. It was just the first shirt at the top of my drawer when I got out of the shower, nothing else. But Paul just kept staring at it. "Can't do it this way…" he whispered. I almost didn't hear him.

"Do what?" I asked, tentatively putting my hand over his. I already knew what he was going to say though.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, hard. "The line is blurring more by the day," he said, lifting his head. "We can't do that again. Not while things are so uncertain with Sam. I won't do that to either of you."

I nodded slowly, "Ok…I agree." I lifted my hand away from him and leaned back on my hands before casually repeating his words from last night, "It is what it is…right?"

His eyes narrowed slightly as he silently questioned me. I pursed my lips and didn't blink. I wasn't about to offer any more information if he wasn't. Today, we were supposed to work on the menu and the cake for the twins' party. If he wanted us to just be friends, then we would just be friends. His reaction to waking up next to me still stung though. Shaking my head a little, I stood up from my bed, grabbed my towel, and walked out of my room without looking back at him.

After I got out of the shower, I went downstairs to find Paul stretched out on the couch, watching the Food Network. He had a notebook in his lap and he looked really intense. He had changed out of his clothes from the day before, but he still smelled like Olivia's perfume. His favorite shows were _Chopped _and _Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives_. And he'd never admit it, but he loves _Barefoot Contessa_; he says Ina relaxes him. She was making an old-fashioned apple crisp; her voice was quite zen, I couldn't argue with that. "_You always want to zest the orange before you juice it. Otherwise, you won't be able to zest it,_" she advised.

"Damn it, Ina, you're nothing short of a genius," Paul mumbled, hanging on her every word. I snorted a laugh before moving his feet off the couch. He sat straight up and looked at me with wide eyes before turning down the television. "I didn't think you were going to come down."

"I told you I was going to help," I reminded him with a soft, friendly smile.

His face lit up. "Great! I already have some ideas written down. Ina inspired me," he said, handing me his notebook. "But you know the twins best, so you can let me know what they would like."

I loved to hear how excited he was about food. In true Rachel fashion, she's letting Paul (and me, kind of) build the menu and then she would make adjustments, as needed. She had this vision of everyone dressing up like something out of _Gossip Girl_. So, being as sweet as he was, Paul had ideas that would elevate that. He spoke animatedly about the different spins he could put on regular "party food."

We made our way into the kitchen and sat at the table. "So I had this idea," he repeated for the fifth time. "What if both of the girls had a signature drink for the night?"

"Like catered to their personalities?" I asked.

"Exactly," he grinned. "Bex is this firecracker, right? No nonsense, feisty, and bold. So, she would be like…" he paused to think.

"A spicy margarita," I suggested with a giggle. He nodded in agreement as he took notes. "Or a straight shot, no chaser."

He chuckled. "I'm sure plenty of people will be taking shots at the Black party."

"What about Rachel?" I asked.

He set down his pencil and looked up in thought. "Rach is easily the kindest person I know. She's like if a warm hug on a rainy day was a person. She needs something sweet, just like her," his nose scrunched as he racked his brain. "She's like a strawberry mojito or a tequila sunrise."

"What would I be?"

Paul smirked at me, "It would be too easy to make a Sex on the Beach joke right now."

I laughed out loud, pushing his arm. "It must be a gift to be able to make everything dirty," I commented.

He shrugged and winked at me. "It is," he confirmed. He checked his notes again, tapping his pencil to his chin. "I haven't thought about the cake at all."

"I know they both like funfetti," I told him. "But I don't know if that's what they want."

His face twisted in disgust like I had just told him I wiped my ass with his favorite shirt. "That is a disgrace. Ina would never."

He was studying the inspiration cake that Rachel gave him. His eyes were practically dancing at the idea of being able to create. I realized in that moment that I'd been using him as a crutch while everything changes that I still hadn't known what he was going to do after our impending graduation. "Hey," I said. He glanced up at me, curiously. "Have you thought about maybe going to culinary school?" I asked.

"What?"

"Culinary school," I repeated. "Turning your passion into a career. That's what life is all about, right?"

His face paled as he started to stutter. "I-I don't see that happening, Lee."

"Why not?"

"Just, uh, not in the cards for me, you know?"

"Says who?" I asked, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table. "Don't you want to own your own restaurant one day?"

He snorted. "Yeah, I'd love to be able to afford that," he replied sarcastically. "Life after we graduate isn't really at the forefront of my mind right now."

"'Paul Lahote, Head Chef' sounds pretty cozy," I shrugged.

"So does 'Leah Clearwater, World Famous Photographer,'" he retorted, looking back down at his notebook.

I rolled my eyes, "One of those is much more attainable than the other."

"Not to me," he said, simply. I didn't have anything to say to that. The way he looked at life was black and white, right or wrong. Either you do it or you don't. I wanted to be more like that; Paul always made it seem so easy. "Tell me something," he said, finally looking at me with a serious expression.

"What?" I asked.

"How often do you think about yourself when you're making life decisions?"

I glared at him. He shrugged at me, patiently waiting for an answer. "That's…not fair," I told him.

From outside, we could hear my family coming up the path. Up until now, I had hardly noticed they were gone. Sometimes with him, I was so wrapped up in his attention that I forgot about other things. We had spent the morning talking about food and the party and things that were actually fun, not stressful. He didn't put me on this ridiculously high pedestal. I didn't have to worry about disappointing my parents or worrying my brother with my choices. Paul was the one person in this house who wanted me to be me, unapologetically.

A round of laughter came from the porch before I could hear the keys turning in the door. "…so excited to have you here for the rest of the semester, Em," my mom said, excitedly. "Leah, sweetie! We're home! Guess who's here!"

"Lee, Emily's here!" Seth announced, practically bouncing into the door. I stood up from the table and took in my cousin in all of her glory. A happy gasp escaped my mouth as I ran to hug my cousin. My closest cousin. The closest thing I had to a real-life sister.

Emily and I grew up together. Her and her mother, Cora, lived with us for a while when Seth and I were little. It was a little tight, but I was so excited to get to share a room with her; we would stay up through the dead of the night, under our bunk bed fort and talk for hours. And then Cora decided to get back together with Emily's father and they moved to the Makah reservation. Now, I only saw Emily during the summer. She would come stay with us for a couple of weeks and then she would head back to her family.

If there was ever an angel that was delicately placed on this earth, it was Emily. Someone actually told her once that she was as pure as freshly fallen snow and she turned red from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed as I ran to hug her.

She grinned at me as she held her hands out for an embrace. I'm sure everyone in the Reservation could hear the squeals that were coming from both of us as we hugged. "I thought you were coming in May!" I exclaimed as we rocked each other back and forth.

"I got an independent study this semester. I wanted to surprise you!" she told me as she held me out at arm's length. "Aunt Sue and Uncle Harry told me I can stay all semester _and _all summer."

This was the best surprise ever. With everything going on, I hadn't been talking to Emily as much as I liked to. We used to talk every single day for hours and hours. Even Sam knew not to get in the middle of our conversations; it was the only time we could spend time together during the school year. Then she started dating this guy named Ben. Ben was…well, he wasn't great. I think he was more into the idea of Emily than Emily herself. He liked the way they looked in the mirror but didn't like to put in the work to make their actual relationship work.

But that's my sister. As long as she was happy, I was happy.

"Well, let's let Em get herself settled," my dad chuckled. So, I guess that makes six. 6 grown sized people versus 1 bathroom. It'll be great! It'll be perfect. "We'll get started on dinner and how does a drive-in movie sound?"

"Oh, that sounds so wonderful!" Emily grinned.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and led her into the house. Dad grabbed Em's suitcase and hauled it upstairs while Mom and Seth went to get the rest of her things from the car. Paul stood up from the table and waved, "Hey Emily," he said a little sheepishly.

Emily waved politely. "It's good to see you, Paul," she said. She glanced at the notebook before gesturing to it. "What are you guys working on?"

"It's the twins 18th birthday in a couple of weeks," I explained. "Paul is an amazing cook so he's helping out with the food and cake at the party. You remember the twins, of course."

"Of course! Billy's daughters. Rachel and…" she trailed off, lifting her head to think.

"Rebecca," Paul finished for her.

"Right, duh," Emily shook her head, playfully.

"Since you're here for the semester, you can come to the party. It'll be so much fun!" I gasped. "We get all dressed up and dance the night away."

Emily and I chatted for a while while Paul just sat quietly at the table with us. I remember when I was a kid, I begged my parents for Emily to stay with us and Cora could go back to the Makah reservation to her husband. That way I would have everyone that I love on the same reservation. It would have been perfect. My mom had to tell me that there was no way I could make everything perfect; sometimes people have to make decisions for themselves and not for everyone else. Cora wanted them to be a family, no matter how content she was living with us. She made a decision for herself. Yes, I understand the irony in that right now. I have a hard time learning a lesson the first time around, ok? Get off my back.

After dinner, we were gearing up to pile into two cars: me, Emily, and Paul in my car and my parents and Seth in another. Paul grabbed my keys to start the car in the garage. I was pulling on my shoes when the doorbell rang. Oh, I need to grab a sweater," Emily said as she scurried upstairs.

"Leah, can you get the door?" my dad called.

I shouted a, "Yeah," before walking over to the front door, not even bothering to check to see who it was through the curtain drawn window. I swung it open and was met with a hard, solid chest. My eyes trailed up until I saw Sam's familiar brown eyes looking down at me. His face looked hard, but his eyes looked guilty. He reached up to scratch the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. "Uh, hey Lee Lee," he said, clearing his throat.

"Hey…" I replied, unable to hide my shock that he was actually standing in front of me right now. I hadn't heard from him in weeks. Anytime I asked my dad about it, he brushed me off. And, somehow, Sam looked even bigger now than he did before he left. He was huge. He wasn't just towering over him. He was…sky-scraping over me.

I heard the door behind me close but paid it no mind. "Can we talk?" he asked, hooking his finger behind him. He wanted me to step outside so we could have some privacy.

I bit my lip and broke eye contact with him. "We're all about to go to the drive-in, actually."

"Samuel," I heard behind me. When I turned around, I saw my dad, a concerned look on his face. "How are you feeling, son?"

"Better, sir," Sam answered, as if he was trying to communicate more than what he was willing to say.

"So, everything is under control?" my dad pressed.

"Yes, sir," Sam nodded. "I just came to see Leah. But I can come back late—,"

I shook my head, "No, it's fine. Do you…maybe want to come?" What was I supposed to do? Send him off? Not see him _again _for another two or three or four weeks?

Sam looked over my head, I'm assuming at my father for some kind of secret approval, when he stopped. I watched his jaw fall slack and his entire body stilled. His eyes grew wider and his face lost all color. My head turned in what felt like slow motion to see what he was looking at. I saw Emily standing in the middle of the staircase, her sweater dropped at her feet and the same expression on her face. It seemed like an eternity, a lifetime, before either of them snapped out of it. I could hear my father curse under his breath and Paul, from what felt like a million miles away, ask what was going on.

"Sam?" I asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked back to reality and looked down at me. He squinted his eyes a couple of times before shaking his head. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah…" he said, uncertain. Then he nodded once. "Yes, I'd love to go to the drive-in."


	5. Chapter 5

If I would have known what happened that day, I could have saved myself a lot of confusion and hurt. But I would be lying if I said that that day hadn't changed literally everything that I knew to be my boring, normal life in La Push. It took a lot of time for me to be able to look back at all of this and see not only when and how, but why, tensions were rising so high and that there was nothing I could have done to fix it.

When Sam started coming around again, it was very evident that it wasn't for me. Wherever I was, Emily was, and right behind us was a lingering Sam. But I was a kid back then. At 18 years old, I was more willing to ignore the red flags that I was seeing than take them head-on.

I almost forgot what it's like to have my cousin around. There was always something about her that made people want to just do whatever she asked of them. She delicately commanded a certain type of attention that I was just never able to achieve. No one told her no. And if they did, she found a way to make them say yes with her sweet smile and honeyed voice.

The only people that tactic doesn't work on is Paul and Rebecca. Over the years, Bex and Emily could never really seem to form a relationship of their own. In fact, every time Emily came for the summer, Bex worked extra hard to make sure that the other people in the room were equipped to stop her when she couldn't bite her tongue anymore. Emily likes to slip little remarks at Bex, Bex likes to hurl her opinions at pretty much anyone she has a problem with. When we were 13, I thought it was just a jealousy thing, but as we got older, I knew it was just a clash of personalities.

As for Paul, he just never does anything he doesn't want to do. Once his mind is made up, that's pretty much it. No amount of 'pleases' or 'pretty pleases' would change his mind. Unless he cared about you. And Emily just wasn't around enough for him to care about her attempts at subtle coercion.

Sam was along for the ride though. After weeks of silence, he was ready to say yes to anything. If Emily says, "Remember that bookstore in Port Angeles? Can we go?" Sam says, "I'll drive." If Emily says, "Let's go get ice cream." Sam says, "My treat! What's your favorite flavor?" If Emily says, "Oh shoot, I left my sweater upstairs," Sam jumps up and offers to get it for her.

The first couple of times, I thought he was just being nice. But it was starting to feel like more when we were all at the dinner table and Daddy asked, "How is Jared, Sam?"

Sam was trying hard not to obviously stare in Emily's direction that he couldn't answer. Everyone could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard and the vein in his forehead make its appearance more and more as time passed. He kept his head down toward his plate but every three or so seconds, his eyes would dart in Emily's direction. I nudged him with my elbow, a lot softer than he deserved. "Huh?" he said, his head snapping up. "Um…he's fine."

"Where's he been? He's barely around," Paul pointed out, a slight edge in his voice.

"He's sick," Sam and Dad had snapped at the same time. Dad cleared his throat. "He should be feeling better soon. It hit him pretty unexpectedly."

"What did?" Paul pushed back. He had been quite vocal about how unfair it was that everyone was keeping secrets. Both of his brothers were clearly going through something and he didn't know what it was.

Dad shoved a large forkful of food in his mouth as he contemplated Paul's question. After he swallowed, he immediately picked up his water glass and avoided eye contact, "It's nothing for you to worry about, Paul. Jared will be fine."

Jared had going through the same type of thing that Sam was going through. He stopped answering everyone's phone calls, he's barely seen out in public and, when he is, he's sweating and irritable and very short with people. I'd only seen him a couple of times in the past week or so and both times, he immediately asked me where Sam was with this strange sense of urgency.

After that comment, everyone at the table just went quiet. While Sam went back to working hard to keep his eyes on his plate, I was trying to make eye contact with Paul to see if he was alright. Mom interjected, attempting to change the subject, "Em, sweetie, tell us all about your independent study."

I loved my cousin, but it felt like she wanted to talk about herself more and more these days. So much so that when mom asked about her independent study, it was the only topic of conversation through the rest of dinner…and dessert…and even after. I think I was the only one to notice when Paul stepped outside as everyone was gravitating toward the living room.

"…so then I started volunteering at the elementary school's after school program twice a week. I just love spending time with the Kindergarteners. They…"

Emily was going on and on about why she decided she wanted to teach Kindergarten after college. She managed to get this internship thing for her independent study at La Push Elementary and then she would go back for her high school graduation before going to UW. She's talked about it so many times at this point, I could probably recite it in my sleep. I let out a quiet sigh before standing up and stretching. No one noticed. Grabbing my camera, I made my way to the back porch to see Paul sitting perched on the rail with a beer in his hand. It was a Heineken, one of my dad's. He was looking out, away from me, his face gravely serious. I felt a small smile tug at my lips as I lifted the camera. The sun was setting behind him, effectively making him a silhouette. I managed to get three shots of him; one looking out at the world, one looking down, and one tipping the bottle into his mouth. I lowered my camera to look back at him, smiling to myself. When I glanced back up, he was looking at me amused with an eyebrow raised. "Did you get the shot?" he asked.

"Yup," I smiled. "You should be a model."

He shook his head, his nose crinkled. "I'm very picky when it comes to my photographers," he joked. He sighed before sitting in one of the white Adirondack chairs. He patted the one next to him, inviting me to sit. "Is she still talking about her study?"

I nodded, gently grabbing the bottle from his hand. "Third time today…" I mumbled. "Not that anyone's noticed. They're the moths. She's the flame."

"Do I sense a little resentment in your voice, Clearwater?" Paul teased.

I shrugged, "It's not resentment; it's just…slight…annoyance." I paused, contemplating. "When we were kids, she hated being the center of attention. Now, it just feels like…"

"She has to tell people how good of a person she is?" he finished. I nodded. "I wouldn't worry about that. She had to figure out how to shine as bright as you."

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "I don't know about that…"

I could hear Sam and Mom laughing just a little too loud at whatever Emily said, inside. I hadn't heard Sam laugh like that in a while. Not that it mattered. He wasn't exactly being subtle about his intentions to be around. If it were a year ago, he would have come outside with me instead of not even bothering to look up when I walked out of the house for air.

It wasn't that I didn't love my cousin being here; I did, more than anything in the world. It just felt like everything was having this strange way of showing itself. Even as a kid, I felt like my mother wanted me to be the person that Emily was turning out to be. Emily was closer aligned with the ideal daughter that my mom envisioned. A sweet girl who wanted to focus on her community rather than a skeptical creative who was dying to see something other than the reservation's rainy days.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw Paul gesture to his house across the yard. "You see that?" he asked. "The window?"

The Lahote house was always completely open for anyone to peak in. They didn't have any curtains or blinds up and, when Diana and Randall were home, they always had the bright lights on. For years, I could see bottles being thrown or liquor being downed or Paul sneaking in and out of the house behind Diana and Randall screaming at each other. This time, the window that Paul was pointing at was dark. So was the living room. "What room is that?" I asked.

"Their bedroom," he answered, swiping the beer bottle from my hand. His fingers brushed mine, but he didn't seem to notice. "It's been dark for a few days. I think they went on another bender."

"Well, that's good, right? You can relax now." His jaw clenched and he didn't say anything. I could hear his fingernails tapping on the glass bottle. "What's wrong?"

The door squeaked open behind us. I looked up to see Emily walking through with a bright smile on her face and a cautious Sam right behind her. "Hey! We were wondering where you two went," Emily said. "Harry and Sue are headed to bed. Do you guys wanna go get a milkshake?"

"Uh, actually," Paul said, standing up, "I think I'm gonna head back to my house for the night. You guys have fun though."

"Wait, why are you leaving?" I asked, concerned. Just because Diana and Randall are on a bender doesn't mean that the house is completely in the clear. I worried about them popping back up and reprimanding him for hiding out at our house for so long. His black eye _just _healed; he didn't need another one.

"No worries, Lee. I'll be alright," he smirked at me.

"Ok…well, don't forget—"

"Rach and Becca's party is tomorrow night. I won't forget."

"I actually better be going too," Sam said, moving around Emily. "Good night, Em," and then he started to turn around. Then he stopped abruptly. "And Leah! G-good night, Leah."

Paul gave Sam a dirty look as they both walked off. "What the fuck was that?" I heard him ask.

XXXXXXXXX

If you ever wanted to see a genuinely sweet person lose her mind, you should have seen Rachel on party day. Every time she saw something that wasn't absolutely perfect, her voice went up an octave and the tips of her ears turned redder and redder. "No, the balloon arch is supposed to go at the front door," she told our friend, Frankie, who was just here to help as much as possible. Poor boy.

Meanwhile, I was setting up the photo booth and laughing at Bex as she did what she was assigned to do: stay out of the way and lead people in the right direction. "Did you know that sea turtles are protected by Hawaiian state law? You can't even touch one or you could go to jail." she said, swinging her dangling feet from the stage. I handed her a cardboard cutout of sunglasses for the photo booth. We had sunglasses, happy birthday signs, tiaras, presents. All within theme, of course, or else Rachel would blow an actual gasket. Bex happily helped as she continued to throw out random facts about her future home state. "Did you know that there are no native snakes in Hawaii? And that they're actually outlawed?"

"Why do you know these things?" I laughed. "And how do you outlaw an animal?"

She shrugged. "Maybe someone tried to sneak one onto the island."

"Lee!" Rachel called from the other side of the room. "Where's Paul? Where are the boys?"

Bex chuckled under her breath, "She'll be calling dogs if her voice gets any squeakier."

Paul had gone home the night before and then didn't show up to make the cake this morning. My original plan was to help him with the cake, but when Bex text me that Rachel was in tornado mode, I left the house as soon as possible. It was nice to not be attached to my cousin for a little while, but I still felt guilty that she may be bored without me.

I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to Paul, only to be met with an undelivered sign immediately. I furrowed my brows before tucking it back in my pocket as I heard Rachel's rapid footsteps getting closer and closer. "I'm about to freak out," she huffed.

"About to?" Becca joked.

"There's no drinks and no food," Rach pouted. "Bex and I have an appointment in an hour and nothing's done. No one's answering their phones. This is a disaster!"

"And they call me the dramatic twin," Bex rolled her eyes before hopping off the stage. She grabbed her twin by the shoulders and shook her a little bit. "Get a grip. I'll call Dylan and ask if he can buy some alcohol for the party. Frankie and Blake will finish setting up. And Lee will go check on Paul and the cake. Deal?"

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded, "Deal."

Rachel and Rebecca left to get their hair done and get ready for the night and I left not too long after them to go find Paul. It wasn't like him to turn his phone off. As I made the long trek from the venue to the neighborhood, I tried calling a couple more times, making the excuse that the signal was bad. He wouldn't just bail the day of the party. No way.

When he didn't answer the front door at his house, I tried back at mine. Instead of finding Paul, I found a dining table covered completely in tightly packed plates of food and a beautiful cake on the counter. Seth was standing in front of the table, trying to sneak a snickerdoodle cookie from under the tinfoil. "Hey!" I exclaimed. "Get out of those, you little creature! Those are for tonight."

"Paul said I could have one," Seth said with his mouth full.

"He was here?"

Seth nodded as he swallowed. "He was leaving when I was coming back from Brady's house. Seemed to be in a hurry."

"Did he say where he was going?"

Seth shook his head before grabbing another cookie and running upstairs. I looked at all of the food and blew out a breath. There was no way I could carry all of it by myself. "Seth!" I called. I heard rustling upstairs but no reply. "Bub?"

Just then, Emily barreled through the back door and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. Her face was red and flustered. "I thought that was you," she said, throwing on an unconvincing smile. She was in a pretty pink dress with no shoes on. "You left so early, I didn't get to say good morning."

"Sorry about that…I wanted to help make sure everything was good down at the venue before tonight. Are you alright? You seem out of breath."

"Yeah!" she answered a little too quickly. "I just had to run to the store really quick."

I glanced down at her feet and then back up. "Barefoot?"

Sam walked in seconds later, looking equally as flustered. His eyes didn't light up the way they used to when he saw me. They just kept darting between Emily and me and then Emily and then me again. "H-hey…Leah," he stuttered. Leah. Not Lee Lee. He hesitated before walking over to me and kissed me on the forehead as if it was the most unnatural thing he'd ever done. "Is everything ready for the party?"

I moved away from him a little before nodding. "Rachel's a little upset you didn't pull through with the drinks, but other than that, everything's set."

What's that thing they say about rose-colored glasses? When you look through them, all the red flags just look like flags? It wasn't great that Sam and I hadn't been alone in weeks. Or that every time I turned around, he seemed to be charmed by my cousin. Or that he couldn't seem focused enough to answer pretty straight forward questions. My once reliable, safe, dependable boyfriend was a complete stranger to me now. But instead of focusing on that, my mind was split in two ways. Getting ready for the night and making sure that Paul was alright.

Instead of just letting the three of us stand there awkwardly, I asked if they could help me get the food to the party before it was too late. I personally carried the cake, making sure that every inch of frosting, every sparkler-candle, and every flower were just perfect. Paul and Barefoot Contessa would be proud. As quickly as we set the food down was as quickly Sam made his exit with a hasty and incoherent excuse. Emily hummed to herself as she unwrapped the food, seemingly avoiding me as much as possible.

The venue looked beautiful. I could tell how much time Rachel put into planning and it was well worth it. Tonight would be one for the books. As I made small adjustments to the décor and the food, I noticed Emily awkwardly standing close to me. "Um…" she said. "I think I'm going to stay home tonight."

My eyebrows drew in confusion as I glanced back at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, these are _your _friends, you know? It would be kind of weird…"

"Em, you've known the twins for years. They know you. They kind of expect you to be there."

"Yeah, but they only kind of know me. They know me as your cousin, not as…me."

I shrugged as I turned to her, "What better way to get to know people than at a party?"

Emily rolled her eyes, a flash of irritation crossing her face, "I just don't want to go, ok?" she said. "So I'm not going to go."

I huffed as I walked to the stage to check Rachel's final list. "Whatever, Emily. Do what you want," I rolled my eyes before muttering, "like you always do…"

XXXXXXXXX

It was like being in a dressing room with your unsatisfied mother, getting ready in front of Emily. I had three black dresses picked out for the night. One was a black satin dress with spaghetti straps, a wrap closure, and a deep neckline, one was a black strapless bodycon dress, and one was a tight black lace dress with a low back. Every dress I tried on, Emily let out a displeased noise before turning back to her book. I had to push past my insecurities to make a decision. I chose the lace dress; it made me feel the most confident. If I let her get in my head, I'd be going in sweats and Rachel would kill me if I was in anything less than "cocktail formal."

Then it was my makeup. I sat on the floor in front of my mirror and did my makeup quietly. Halfway through, Emily asked, "Are you really going to put all of that on? It feels like a little much."

And then it was my hair. I wanted curls. Emily wanted…something else. "I kind of thought it would be cuter up…or like half-down or something."

Whatever. I left my room without a word, my heels in hand. I said goodbye to my parents before I started to walk to the Blacks' house. About halfway there, I stopped in my tracks and turned to Paul's house. There was a small light illuminating the window in the living room. He was home. I bounced up his porch stairs and tentatively knocked twice before waiting. It almost felt like I waited too long. I could hear his heavy footfalls on the hardwood floor before the door opened just a crack and Paul's face appeared. It was hard at first but his eyes softened when he saw it was me. "Lee," he breathed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check on you. You haven't been around all day," I smiled at him.

He opened the door just wide enough to step through it. He closed it tight behind him and crossed his arms. "Yeah, I just had to take care of some stuff. Sorry about that," he said. He looked me up and down before a wide grin spread across his face. "Goddamn, Clearwater."

"Do you like it?" I asked, doing a little spin.

"You look hot," he chuckled. "You'll crush it tonight."

I looked down at myself before looking at Paul, dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. "So why aren't you dressed then?"

He sighed, "I'm, uh…still taking care of things right now," he told me, "but I'll be there in an hour, I promise."

I could tell that he was lying but I didn't want to call him out on it. Paul looked like he was under an insane amount of stress, but that didn't make sense. Usually when his parents went on a bender, he was at his happiest and most carefree. He didn't have to watch over his shoulder all the time, he didn't care about staying out super late and still being able to sleep in his own bed. But, right now, I could practically see all of the tension building in his shoulders, but if he didn't want to tell me the truth then I couldn't force him. "You know, Rachel will kill you if you don't show up," I told him instead of asking him what he was hiding.

He chuckled and nodded, "You're absolutely right."

"Plus…I want you there too," I said quietly. "We can have a drink or a dance or something."

"We can definitely have a drink or a dance or…something," he gave me a small smirk as the word seemed to linger in the air.

I pushed his shoulder playfully before turning around to head to the twins' house. "I'm holding you to that," I called as I walked away.

Imagine my lack of surprise when he didn't show up in an hour like he said. Or in two hours. Or three. The party was in full swing and I had had too many drinks to make good decisions. Bex and Rachel looked gorgeous in their similar black dresses. And one of the cheerleaders from school made it her job to light the candles and start the happy birthday song. I took another shot as they blew out their candles for their 18th birthday. I put my shot cup down and picked up my camera right as the last candle was being blown out. The twins were illumed in the candle's light and I hoped to God that I got the shot.

Tonight was all about my girls and I loved that. Everyone came out for the Black party; it was like the social event of the year, every year. Rachel says that she works on the guest list, but it always ends up bigger than any of us plan. More people from school than invited end up coming. Some kids from Forks and Port Angeles even show up. Who knows why they're there or how they found out about our little get together? The absences of Sam, Paul, and Jared were still all too noticeable though.

I was trying my hardest to swallow my conflicting feelings about my life while the party was going. But as the drinks were flowing, my mind was gone. Trying to figure out how to make the rest of this semester with Emily as smooth as possible. Deciding what to do or what not to do about Sam. Debating whether or not to go pounding on Paul's door and either demand he tell me what's wrong or plant a giant kiss on his face.

Actually…that last one sounded pretty fucking good right now. It was nearing about 11 and, as I took another shot of rum, I knew that that was the last of the liquid courage I needed. I kicked my shoes off and once again, made the long trek down the hill toward the neighborhood. I was gonna do it. I was going to _demand _that he tell me why he wasn't around all day. Why he skipped the party. Why he wouldn't let me inside earlier. I needed to know.

Well…I don't know if it was me that needed to know so badly. I think it was the liquor. Yeah…it was definitely the liquor. Drunk Leah is mad aggressive. There was a sober part of my mind that was trying to convince me to turn around and go back to the party. Because Paul wasn't mine, he didn't owe me any explanation. I think I just wanted to know because he'd always been there for me when I needed him. I wanted to be there for him too.

He looked surprised when he realized I was at his door for the second time that night. I had never been at his house this many times, like ever. But I sobered up as soon as I saw his face. His eyes were bloodshot red as if he had been crying, his nose completely pink and swollen. The bleariness from the alcohol completely vanished and I was standing straighter than ever before. "What's up, Lee?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"I…I wanted to check on you," I said, hoping I wasn't slurring my words.

"I'm in the middle of something right now," he said, eyes trained on the ground.

"You promised me a drink," I told him.

"Not right now, Leah."

"Then tell me what's wrong."

"No."

"I can help you."

"I don't want your help," he told me. I could feel the pang of hurt hit me when he said that. He cringed a little before sighing. "I know you want to help, Lee, but you can't. Not with this."

I nodded, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Will you at least tell me what it is?"

Paul watched my face for a few seconds before I noticed that he started to tear up. He sniffled a little before shaking his head, but not to my question. And then a single tear fell from his face, right in between us, onto the worn-down wood of the porch. Then he pushed the door open with his back and gestured for me to come in. Timidly, I stepped into his home and gasped at what I saw. It was bare.

Everything was gone. The couch, the tv, every table, every shelf. Gone. There was a single lamp sitting in the middle of the living room, lighting a ring on the ceiling. Right next to the note was a single piece of paper that had been haphazardly folded up a few times. I couldn't stop staring. Paul's warm body was standing so close to me as I took everything in. "They left…" he whispered. He sniffled again as he walked around me and swept up the note from the ground.

When he handed it to me, it read,

_You'll be happier with your new family. You probably already are._

And that's it. "How bout that drink?" he said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked into the kitchen. Right under the sink, left hand side. The infamous liquor cabinet. He slammed a bottle of rum down a little too hard before he brought down two plastic cups and poured some into both. "The only bottle they left behind," he kind of muttered to himself.

"They took everything?" I asked.

He snorted, "No." He handed me a cup before gulping his down. He gestured to the room with the drink in his hand and said, "I've been selling all of their shit. They stole one of my money stashes."

"How much did they take?"

He clenched his jaw. "About $300."

"And how much did you make today?"

"Not even half that."

I reached out to hug him and felt his body stiffen at the contact. Then he sighed and wrapped an arm around my lower back. I felt him bury his nose in my hair as I could hear his breath laboring. He was trying not to cry. With every second he was holding back tears, I could feel his fingers dig into my waist a little more. I didn't mind it. "You don't need them," I said in his ear. "You have family who will always take care of you."

He shook his head before lifting it to look at me, "As much as I appreciate Harry and Sue, I don't really want them to know about this."

"I wasn't talking about my parents," I told him, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from his cheek. My hand rested on his face as he closed his eyes for a moment. I glanced behind me at the empty room and my heart broke a little. So many painful memories were trapped in these walls. There were so many rumors that circulated around the Rez over the years. I never knew which were true and which weren't. But, even then, there was no telling what people didn't know. There was no way to know everything that happened in this house. I felt it in my body that I needed to make this better for him. But how? "I'll be right back. Stay here."

There was only one way I knew to make this better. I, at least, had to try. I needed to round everyone up and help him to forget his pain as much as possible. Fortunately enough, we've all always known the power of the all-call. As soon as I called the twins to tell them to meet me at Paul's, they were geared up to leave their own party to help out a friend. I ran to the Camerons' house to find Jared. He had been MIA for a couple of weeks, but I had to try. I remember overhearing Dad say that Jared had started running around with Sam during school hours.

Knocking on their front door, I was immediately hit with the regret that I was still absolutely drunk and about to be face-to-face with a parent who was good friends with my parents. I shook out my nerves as Pam Cameron answered the door. I smiled bright and spoke as clearly as possible, "Hi Mrs. Cameron, is Jared home?"

She told me that he didn't spend a lot of time at home and when he did, he was most likely sleeping. Instead of turning me away, like I thought she would, she let me in and told me his room was all the way in the back (as if I already didn't know that). I was aware of my bare feet on their floor as I walked down the long hallway toward the door. When I threw it open, I saw a man that I hardly recognized. If I hadn't looked at Jared's face first, I would think he was a complete stranger. He had shot up like 10 inches, leaving half of his legs and his arms hanging off the bed. He was lying on his stomach with his mouth open. It was like he had aged 10 years overnight.

"Jared?" I called. I reached over and touched his shoulder, immediately recoiling at how hot his skin was. "Jared!" I called again, shaking the bed. I had to bang on the wall a couple of times before his eyes popped open. He sprang up from the bed and crouched in what I only assumed was a defensive position. I put my hands up in surrender and backed up.

When he realized it was only me, he sighed in relief and stood up straight. "Oh, Lee, it's only you. What are you doing here?"

"Get dressed. We gotta go," I said.

He reached up to scratch the back of his head, these new unfamiliar muscles flexing and unflexing. "I can't, Lee. I'm really tired an—"

"Jared, Paul needs us," I interrupted, a stern look on my face. His eyes widened before he nodded, instantly throwing on a shirt and following me out the door. "Do you know where Sam is?" I asked when we got outside.

"He's…" Jared paused for a second, "he's at home." Jared sounded a little surprised as he said it. He muttered something else but the only word I caught was 'alone,' and I didn't bother to ask him to speak up. It wasn't important. I could see Sam's house from the road and, as we got closer, the man himself, Samuel Uley stepped out as if he had been expecting us. He glanced at Jared very seriously before looking at me. He looked guilty about something but didn't open his mouth to speak until we were right in front of him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

I spoke, "Paul's parents left."

"They always leave," Sam pointed out.

I rolled my eyes, irritated. "They left for good this time. He needs his friends right now. He needs you guys." Sam hesitated for a second, glancing around as if this wasn't serious. I shook my head, "Look…if that's your brother like you've claimed he is all these years, you'll show up and be there for him. I'm not going to beg you though; that's ridiculous"

I pivoted on my feet and stormed back to Paul's, Jared a few paces behind me. When I got there, Rachel and Bex were standing on the porch, Bex with a couple of bottles of wine in one hand and their shoes in the other, and Rachel holding the cut cake in hers. "We came as soon as we could!" Rachel called. "Sorry if we took too long."

"Nope, perfect timing," I told them. "Let's make this boy as happy as possible."

I didn't miss the look on Bex's face that said, "Ooh, girl, you got it bad," as we walked in.

XXXXXXXXX

Who was surprised that Sam didn't show up that night? Not me. And as we all sat around in a circle in the living room, I could see the stress melt away from Paul's face with every belly laugh. Every once and a while, he'd take a look around the empty room before looking at all of us and then relax. Rachel and Rebecca gathered up all of the sheets, blankets, and pillows in the house and made a huge palette in the middle of the floor. We had a bunch of snacks around us and a movie playing on one of our laptops a few feet away.

"Do you remember trying to kiss all three of us in Kindergarten?" Rachel asked Paul, giggling. "We ran around the playground all of recess until we all slid into that mud pile."

Paul grimaced a little at the memory before chuckling to himself.

"Well, it took him about 10 years, but he successfully kissed two out of the three of us," I pointed out, nudging Bex with my elbow.

"So, I guess the question is, who was the better kisser? Leah or Becca?" Jared asked, smirking.

Rachel and Jared laughed as the three of us took long sips from our cups. "I plead the fifth," Paul finally answered.

"It's alright. I already know the answer," Jared joked.

"I think we all do," Bex sing-songed before picking up the empty chip bowl next to her. "I'll go get more snacks."

"I'll help you," Rach said, standing up.

Jared got up to use the bathroom, then it was just the two of us. I pushed myself until my back was against the wall and I twiddled my thumbs. Paul scooted until he was next to me and placed his hand over mine. I looked at our hands before glancing at him. "Thank you, Lee," he said.

"For what?"

"For this," he said, waving his hands to the room. "You didn't have to do this."

I shrugged, "Well, I can't replace the money you lost, but the least I can do is remind you that we'll always be here for you, no matter what."

He smiled a little before leaning in and placing a tender kiss on my cheek. Stop. That moment right there changed almost everything. That kiss on the cheek meant so many things to me. It told me that, not only did he care about me, but he would allow me to take care of him when he needed it. It told me that he was content being my friend or anything else, if that's what we chose. It just poured into me all of the love and appreciation that he was holding in his body.

Everything just stood still for that moment.

Rachel cleared her throat. "Alright, kids, we better get going. The sun is coming up," she declared.

"Yeah, I'm gonna be hungover in a few hours and I'd prefer to be in my own bed when that happens," Bex chimed in. They made their way to the front door. "I'll call you tomorrow, Lee."

Jared seemed to be in a rush to leave too. "I gotta head out too. I have patr—uh, I have an appointment in the morning. See ya!"

Paul grunted as he stood up, holding his hand out to help me up. I grabbed it, feeling his warmth in my hand and we slowly made our way to the door. I couldn't help but notice that we were still holding onto each other's fingers, unwilling to let go. "You should get some rest," he said. He turned the knob of the front door before letting go of my hand. "Isn't Seth's first baseball game today?"

I palmed my forehead, "I completely forgot about that. Mom and Dad will kill me if I skip it." The sun was starting to rise. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess. "Alright, I'll see you later, then."

As I turned to leave, Paul grabbed my wrist softly. "Wait, Lee…before you go…" he stopped. He studied my face, which no doubt was probably a wreck. "Tell me a secret."

I giggled. "What?" 'Tell me a secret' was something we used to do when we were younger. As kids, it was always silly things like stealing candy from the candy drawer or wearing the same underwear two days in a row. As we got older, it was more like who we had a crush on or me sneaking my mom's lipstick to class in middle school. It was a game. We hadn't played it in years.

"Tell me a secret," he repeated.

I bit my lip as I looked at his amused face. He had small bags under his eyes; he was tired. I cleared my throat, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. "I was really looking forward to that dance tonight," I said honestly. He nodded, making a small 'hm' sound. "Your turn."

His thumb started to stroke my wrist, back and forth. "You look really beautiful tonight."

"Is that a secret?"

"Nah, not really," he chuckled. "Anyone who saw you tonight knows it. But, in case no one told you that, it'll be my secret this round."

I nodded my head and gave him a small smile. As I turned to head home, I could feel his eyes on me until I heard his door click behind me.

XXXXXXXXX

You ever come down from being drunk way too fast while you're still awake? I had dropped on the couch and it felt like I closed my eyes for five seconds before Seth was shaking me to wake up so I could get dressed for the game. I didn't even shower; I literally haphazardly wiped the makeup off of my face, threw my rat's nest hair in a bun on top of my head, and tossed on a pair of jeans and a tank top before running out of the house with my family. The music was too loud, the sun was too bright even with sunglasses on, and people cheering was like an ear-splitting experience.

"Too much fun last night?" my dad asked, bumping my shoulder. "I don't think I've ever seen you so pale."

"I never know if you asking me about parties is a trap or not," I told him, rubbing my temples.

He chuckled, "It's not a trap. It's just a question. Em stayed home too. I'm assuming she's just as hungover as you."

I turned to him and lifted my sunglasses, almost immediately regretting it. Someone, please turn down the sun. "Emily didn't go to the black party last night."

He cocked his head to the side. "Are you sure? She was out all night. I heard her come back at around 2 in the morning."

I blinked at him in confusion. Emily's not from around here. Where else would she have gone, if not with me? She doesn't know anyone enough to hang out on her own. "Yeah, I'm sure…" I answered my dad before lowering my sunglasses. He shrugged before turning his attention back to the game.

Here's where things get juicy. And by juicy, I mean really, really complicated. Seth crushed his first game. The La Push Wolves won 4 to 1. And to celebrate, Mom and Dad took Seth out for ice cream. If I would have had even a lick, I would have vomited. So, they dropped me off at home before heading to the diner. As soon as I walked in the door, I noticed something was off. It was too quiet, too still.

Then I heard it. The most delicate moan assaulted my ears. _Maybe it was just a one-off, _I thought. Wrong. Then I heard a very familiar gruff groan a second later. No way…there was no way. I strained my ears to listen more and picked up the squeaking of a bed frame. I heard a gasp and an "Oh my god."

Walking up a single stair took off a year of my life. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, my heart was beating so fast, I thought it would burst out of my chest. The door was cracked, because of course it was. They were lying on top of my favorite duvet. I watched as her ballet slipper pink fingernails scratched down his glistening back. I watched her body arch off of _my _bed as he thrust inside of her. I caught every glimpse of their bodies as they completely wrecked my safe space. "You feel so good, Em," he grunted, kissing her neck.

"Keep going…" she whispered.

I watched for too long. He ravished her the same way he ravished me. Except…with her, it looked like he loved it way more. He was so gentle with her, as if he already knew every inch of her body. And there was this moment where I felt like I was intruding on a special moment. Like I was invading their privacy. And I was. Just like they were invading mine. My boyfriend and my cousin. Together.

In my head, I imagine I would have been frozen to that spot for a lot longer than I was if my phone hadn't started ringing. The ringtone was so quiet, almost impossible to hear over the moans and skin slapping, but it was enough for Sam's head to whip toward the door. Our eyes met and widened at the same time. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, throwing himself backward off of her. I whirled around and ran back down the stairs. "Leah, wait!"

"Oh no," Emily said, panicked. "No, no, no."

I couldn't even get to the door fast enough. As soon as I was close enough, Sam blurred in front of me, one hand stretched out to me, the other barricading the door. "Leah, please stop," he begged.

"Get out of my way, Sam," I said calmly. My phone was still ringing in my pocket and my head was still pounding, but all of that didn't matter.

"Lee Lee, it's not what it looks like, I promise," he said, reaching for me. I backed away from him, shaking my head. Not what it looks like? I glanced down at his boxer brief clad groin and…he was still hard. And the front of his briefs were wet, no doubt from being inside of my cousin's vagina. Sam followed my eyes down before covering his junk. "I-I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" I repeated, incredulously. "You're fucking my cousin in _my _house, in _my _bed, and all you can say is that you're sorry? You're a sorry sack of shit. That sounds more accurate."

I made a dash for the back door when I heard Emily call out to me. "Leah, don't leave!" she said.

"Oh, are you sorry too?" I spat. She was standing on the stairs wearing his shirt. "There's nothing you can say. This is just…" I didn't even know how to finish that sentence. "You're screwing my cousin, Sam. What the fuck am I supposed to think about that?"

Sam started sputtering nonsense like a babbling idiot. "I-I-I came here to make sure you were both alright today and then—"

"—one thing led to another—" Emily started babbling along with him.

"—it was only this time, I promise," Sam said, his voice completely spooked.

I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling as I chewed on my bottom lip. The words were piling up in my throat. They were practically billowing. Begging to be released from my mouth. But instead of letting all of it out, I managed to ask, "So where were you both last night then?" All I needed to see was the color completely wash from Emily's face to know. A small laugh escaped my mouth. "You guys must love that you made me look so stupid. Smiling in my face, disappearing at weird hours, lying to me at every chance you got."

"We didn't lie!" Emily tried.

"Bullshit!" I yelled. "You can't even admit that you've been lying; that's how full of it you are!"

"Well what about you, huh? You haven't exactly been honest lately," Sam spoke up. I raised an eyebrow at him. He glared at me with pure venom. "Don't act confused. I see the way you look at Paul."

"Don't bring Paul into this," I warned him. "He has nothing to do this."

"How doesn't he?"

"Because I'm not fucking him!" I shouted. "Classic Sam. You can never take responsibility for any of your shitty actions. You grasp at anything to blame me for and you shift all of the attention from you to me! You've done it for years! Every single time I'm upset, you find a way to flip it and _I _end up apologizing to _you_! And for what? What have I done to you? What about me is so bad that you, not only fucked my sister, but you couldn't even try to hide the fact that you have clearly wanted her for weeks.

"But since you want to bring Paul into this? Fine, we can. If you actually gave a shit about someone other than yourself, you would know that his dad started beating him _again_, which is why he had to move in with us _again_. Or you would know that he was so distraught over Randall and Diana leaving that he cried by himself in his empty house because he had to sell all of their furniture just to have some extra money. But you didn't know that, did you? Because you don't care! You don't care about Paul, you don't care about me, you probably don't even care about Emily! You just wanted to get into her pants!"

"You don't know anything about how I feel about Emily!" Sam roared. His whole body began to vibrate. We stared each other down, neither of us daring to blink. "You have no idea what I've been through."

"I don't know because you don't let me know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she's giving you something I couldn't. Maybe she's worth you losing someone who's always been in your corner," I said. I shook my head and blew out a breath. "I hope it was worth it. I really do."

I left out of the back door and didn't look back. Not at the call of my name. Not at the loud roar or the sound of wood splintering a second later. It wasn't worth it to me to look back. Just like it wasn't worth it to either of them to think about me before betraying my trust.

XXXXXXXXX

"Cinnamon Buns or Milk and Cookies?" Rachel asked, holding two Ben and Jerry's pints at me. I shook my head and buried my face in Bex's pillow. "Ice cream will make you feel better, sweetie."

I groaned, pulling the cover over my head. "What flavor makes you feel better about your long-term boyfriend sticking his penis in one of the closest things you've ever had to a sister on your bed?" I asked, wiping my wet face with the sheets.

"Vodka," Bex commented, slipping her hand under the covers. I intwined our fingers and pressed her hand against my cheek. "We should kill him."

"And burn my bedroom to the ground," I added. I sat up and pulled my legs to my chest. "I don't even know who to be mad at, him or her."

Rachel plopped next to me. "They're both to blame for this. They knew how important they were to you."

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but couldn't. The tears came streaming down my face as I pictured them over and over again. Rachel placed her head on my shoulder as I silently sobbed into Bex's comforter. "He couldn't even say it out loud. He just kept making excuses."

"He's such an asshole," Becca muttered under her breath. "He puts you through hell with all of his shady business bullshit and then fucks Emily behind your back? What kind of person does that?"

"A confused one, maybe?" Rachel said. "I'm not excusing his behavior at all, but this is just so beyond his character, it feels like there's something bigger at play here."

"What are you saying, Ray? Emily has a magic vagina?" Bex asked, sarcastically.

"No," Rachel scoffed at her twin. "This is all just a mess."

They let me wallow. They let me mope for an unreasonable amount of time. I ended up downing an entire pint of Cinnamon Buns ice cream while the girls watched _Practical Magic_ on the floor in front of me. "Ooh, we could curse him," Bex joked halfway through.

"Or we could make Leah perform the perfect man spell," Rach giggled.

I didn't even bother chiming in. I was too busy deleting pictures of me and Sam from my phone. My mind was too occupied trying to convince myself that today was not a dream; this was my real life. It almost felt poetic in a way. Emily was probably everything that Sam needed, and I could be free to do what I felt in my heart that I needed to do. I really wanted to get out of La Push. I wanted something more than this place. Maybe…maybe this was the universe's way of telling me to go.

My phone dinged. The message popped up from Paul, _Hey, you alright? I came by and the back door was busted._

I didn't answer. I didn't know how to. Telling him that Sam cheated on me with Emily wasn't something I wanted to tell anyone over text. So I just stared at his text for another five minutes before turning my phone off and slipping it under the pillow.

Around 11 o'clock, I found myself still wide awake and just staring at Bex's Chris Hemsworth _Sexiest Man Alive _poster. Chris Hemsworth would never. He would never fuck his wife's cousin behind her back. Nope, not Thor. You know who else wouldn't do that? Paul. Paul wouldn't even think to ever do that. He was too good.

He was so good to me. And I know I didn't make it easy. I know I probably confused him with being around him all the time, being affectionate, but just distant enough for him to know that I wasn't ready yet. Was I ready now though? No…no way. Paul wasn't a rebound guy. He was too good. He was just too good.

But, as the twins were sound asleep on the floor, I found myself needing my friend more than ever. It wouldn't be the first time we relied on each other for late night talks. I needed my friend. I needed him to help me make sense of it all. So…I stealthily crawled out of Becca's bed, grabbed a sundress from her closet—because I didn't want to bother with jeans—, and snuck past Billy's room and Jacob's room and out of the front door. It was raining that night and the cool raindrops on my face were enough to calm me down enough as I made my way down the road.

I just needed my friend.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain soaked me from head to toe as I strolled down the road. I pushed the hair from my face and didn't bother to wipe away my tears. It was over. It was actually over. My chapter with Sam was closed and the weight that had been sitting on my chest for months was finally lifted. And I didn't know what to do.

My feet carried me past every house, every car, the park, everything. Until I was in front of it. The single lamp in the living room illuminated the window, letting me know that someone was home. I hesitated, contemplated walking back home, before slowly stepping up the porch and knocking twice on the front door. "Fuck…" I whispered, before turning around and bouncing down the porch stairs. Then I stopped. "Damn it…" I squeaked, running back up to the door. What the fuck was wrong with me? I didn't want to do it like this. I didn't know why I was here.

No, I knew exactly why I was here. I just needed to see him, even for a second. I needed my friend. The door swung open as I watched as Paul pulled his shirt over his muscular chest as if he just put it on. My eyes widened as I took in his messy hair, his scruffy face, and how his clothes hugged all of the right parts of his body. I tucked my hair behind my ear as my mouth gaped open before closing, no sound coming out. "Hi," I finally managed.

"Hi," he reciprocated with a smile. I inched closer to him, my heart pounding heavy. We were practically chest to chest; I could hear his breathing speed up just a little. His amber eyes locked on mine, full of questions. I slid my hands up his torso, his chest, and up to his face, cupping both of his cheeks. "Leah, what are you doing?" Paul whispered. His facial hair was a little scratchy under my palms, but I didn't mind it. I moved until my body was pressed against his, feeling him gingerly place his strong hands on my hips. Raising myself on my tip toes, I crashed my mouth to his. My heart leaped out of my chest as our lips danced together. His fingers gripped my hips as he tried to bring me closer before he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

This was it. This was what I'd been waiting for. Paul ignited something in me that I hadn't been ready to acknowledge. But standing here, at this very moment, there was a fire in the pit of my belly that was only growing stronger at every single pass of his tongue and at feeling the contours of his body as he pulled me as close as he could. It was desperate. Passionate. It was hot. We stumbled back into his house, never breaking contact. I kicked the door shut before Paul pressed me up against it, causing me to gasp. He finally leaned away from me to catch his breath. His lips were swollen and the front of his clothes were wet now from my walking in the rain. The way he looked at me was like all of his questions were simultaneously answered and unanswered. "Lee…" he breathed, dropping his head on my shoulder. I reached up to play with the hair on his neck as I willed my heart to slow down.

"I'm sorry," I swallowed. Paul was placing little kisses on my neck before he nuzzled his face into my hair.

"Please don't apologize. Please don't tell me you regret that already," he mumbled in my neck. I felt him run the tip of his nose up the length of my neck before his lips were an inch away from mine again. "Leah, I…" he trailed off.

I closed the space between us, kissing him again. He let out a small moan as he held himself up with both of his hands on either side of my head. "Can you take me to bed?" I asked against his lips.

"What?" he asked, shocked. "Really?"

I nodded, slipping my fingers under his t-shirt before lifting it over his head. His abs rippled under my hands before I settled them on the waistband of his sweatpants. Paul tugged on the hem of my dress before whispering, "What about Sam?"

"That's over," I said. I could see the relief wash over his face. I bit my bottom lip nervously as I placed my hands over his and lifted them up, taking my dress along with them. He threw it to the side before taking my face in his hands and kissing me passionately.

All of a sudden, his hands and lips were everywhere; I felt as he placed wet kisses on my neck and shoulders before watching him drop to his knees to kiss my stomach and the waist of my white lace panties. "Fuck…" he groaned. Paul looked up at me, asking the question of all questions. I nodded my head and felt my breath hitch as he slowly pulled my panties down my legs. I kicked them to sit with my dress before sliding down the door onto the hardwood floor.

We sat and stared at each other for what felt like forever. Reaching behind me, I unhooked my bra and slowly let it fall from my chest. I kept my knees close to my body, feeling the need to shield myself from him. Paul broke eye contact with me with a small laugh, hanging his head. "Jesus," he whispered. He rubbed a rough hand over his face. "Is this…is this real?"

I bit my bottom lip, looking down at my naked body. "Do you want it to be?" I asked. Paul scooted closer to me, lifting my chin.

"More than anything," he assured me. "I just need you to be sure that you want this."

He looked afraid. Afraid that I was suddenly going to snap out of it and realize this was a mistake. It wasn't though. I slowly ran my finger down his lips, mesmerized by every single feature of his face. He was beautiful and vulnerable. We both were. I let my feet slide until they were resting on either side of him, allowing myself to open for him. Paul's eyes darted down before locking with mine again as he swallowed hard. "I want you," I whispered. "Can I have you, Paul?"

He nodded before capturing my lips again, one of his rough hands landing on my hip. He moved to his knees, settling between my legs. I draped my arms around his neck, wanting him closer. Then I gasped as his fingers made contact with my core. He moved them in slow circles as my breath hitched. He watched my face for a minute before his head dipped down to place open mouth kisses on my neck. I felt a wave of arousal wash over me as he continued to touch me.

Then he stopped. He backed a few inches away from me. He was breathing hard, trying to slow his heart rate. "Ok…" he whispered. "I need to slow down."

"Why?" I asked, reaching for him.

He blew out a breath, "Because I respect you, Leah. I don't want this to just be sex. I…" he stopped, "you know how I feel about you, Lee."

"I respect that you respect me. I have all of the respect in the world for you," I told him, holding his hands in mine. "This isn't just a rebound hookup for me. I didn't come over here for sex, but, when I saw you, I-I don't know what came over me."

I felt a little foolish. He probably thought I was using him for sex. Here I was, sitting on his floor, completely naked, after discovering my ex-boyfriend and my cousin in my bed. I am the most selfish person in the world. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?

Grabbing my dress and standing up, I started to apologize, "I'm so sorry, Paul. I didn't mean to…" I didn't even know how to finish that sentence. My hands started trembling a bit because my mind was racing. What if he didn't want anything to do with me anymore because he thought that I wanted 'just sex'? I managed to get my dress over my head and turned to leave, not looking at him.

The door only opened a crack before his strong hand closed it again. His other hand rested on my hip. "Where are you going?" he asked, evenly.

"I just don't want you to think I'm here for sex. That's not why I came," I said, feeling his breath on my neck.

"That doesn't mean you have to leave," he told me. "I want you to stay."

Paul pressed his lips against my shoulder before moving me away from the door. I followed him into his bedroom and sat on the bed, smoothing my dress down. He sighed, lying next to me and propping himself up on his elbow. I felt myself reach out to run my fingers through his hair; a small smile graced his face as his eyes closed, melting into it. "Do you wanna tell me what happened?" he asked.

I shook my head, "You don't want to know."

"I do," he responded.

I continued to massage his head as I relived the past 24 hours for the hundredth time. "Sam fucked my cousin," I told Paul.

He let out a surprised whistle before rolling on his back. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that at all."

So, I told him what happened. From the moment I got home before Seth's game to watching Sam and Emily defile my bed with my own two eyes. Halfway through, Paul gave me one of his t shirts to change into because I said that I couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in that house right now. We were sitting in his bed, his head in my lap, and I felt like I could breathe with him with me. "Rach and Bex were trying so hard to distract me, but…all I could think about was you," I admitted. Then I breathed a laugh. "And then all of a sudden, I was naked in front of your door."

He was so quiet. Just listening. Every once and a while, he would make a small noise to let me know that he was still hearing me. But he didn't say anything. He didn't offer advice or do that pity thing. He was an ear. That's what I loved about Paul. My heart skipped a little bit when he intertwined our fingers.

"I've been so wrapped up in making sure that everyone is being taken care of; I feel like I should have seen it coming."

"Nah, I don't think that's it," he finally interjected. "I think you did see it coming. You just didn't care enough."

"Excuse me?" I asked, pulling his hair until he was looking at me.

He brushed away my hand and sat up. "Lee, you've been checked out of your relationship with Sam for a while. If you weren't, you would be a lot more upset and you wouldn't be here with me."

"What do you mean? Of course I'd be here with you," I argued.

He raised an eyebrow at me in question before raising himself to his knees. He dropped to all fours and leaned in really close to my face. I think I stopped breathing; I could see all of the yellow flecks in his eyes and the dark ring around his iris. "So, you're saying that you would be sitting in my bed, in my shirt, if this had happened a year ago? Hell, if it had happened 6 months ago? No dice, Clearwater."

"You've been my friend for years, Paul. Even when we weren't close, I knew I could count on you if I needed to," I spoke softly.

His gaze dropped to my lips before locking with my eyes again. "Friends don't kiss friends like that," he stated. "Friends don't let friends touch them like that."

He had a point. Damn it, I hated when Paul made sense. He reached up and brushed my hair from my face. The air seemed to still around us as we gazed into each other. I moved closer to him until we were just a breath away from a kiss and felt myself move away when he went for it. This all felt very familiar. "You make me nervous," I whispered.

Paul's mouth twitched upward as he recognized those words. He nodded before saying, "Just tell me when you want me to stop." He lifted my chin before capturing my mouth with his. My entire body erupted in tingles as his tongue explored my mouth. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, his groin pressed firmly against my bare core. His head ducked to my neck, licking and sucking every inch he could reach. I heard myself moan as he ground himself into me. The only thing between us was his sweatpants.

Everything about him was making me drunk. The way his body felt, the way his mouth moved, the subtle ways he was telling me that he wanted me just as bad as I wanted him. My hands slid down to the waist of his pants and began to push them down. He froze for a second. He lifted his head to look at me, silently asking me if this was really what I wanted. When I nodded my head, he lifted his hips so I could slide his pants off as far as I could. He kicked them off before settling on top of me again. Paul all but tore his shirt off of me before taking in every part of my body. "Wow…" he breathed.

Being with Paul now was so different than before. I mean, of course, it was. He definitely knew what he was doing, and I had learned a few things over the years. But I still wasn't prepared for _how good _it felt. He found his way to my breast, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. I moaned as his tongue twirled one of my nipples and his fingers played with the other. "Fuck…" I whimpered. He switched sides as he pressed the lower half of his body to me as much as possible. Then I felt his hand trail from my breast, down my torso, and then in between my legs.

Paul left my breasts and whispered in my ear, "I want you, Lee."

"I'm all yours," I moaned.

He bit and sucked on my earlobe as he played with me more. Then he grabbed himself, rubbing the head of his cock on my opening. "I really hope you mean that," he rasped as he slipped inside me. I gasped as he filled me. He took his time, letting me adjust to his size. He was so big. When he was at the hilt, he stopped and fought for his breath. "F-fuck, Leah," he groaned.

My mouth found his again as he rocked a little to test the waters. I couldn't stop my growing moans as he began thrusting harder and faster. I matched his pace as much as I could, grinding myself to his rhythm. "Please don't stop," I sighed. "Please."

He started pounding me harder as he placed gentle kisses along my neck and my collarbone. Paul put one of my legs over his shoulder and groaned as he felt my tightness. I gasped loudly at the new angle he was hitting. We locked eyes as he continued to fuck me, making me have this strange but delicious out of body moment. Like I could see myself from above, arching my back every single time he hit that spot. I threw my head back as he touched my spot again and again and again. Paul kissed the inside of my calf as he sat up, lifting his weight from me. No, I needed it. I needed him on top of me. "God, you're so tight," he growled, looking down at where we were joined. I watched him slam into me countless times, feeling my body start to shake. "I need you to cum for me, Lee."

He continued to work my body in ways I could have never even imagined. Every single inch of my body was tensing up and I hadn't experienced that before. It felt so good. It felt too good. I squeezed my eyes shut as I started to get in my head. This happened every time. I'm always so close and then a big fat nothing.

"Look at me," he demanded. My eyes popped open and he looked ready for his own fireworks. "Stay with me," he told me.

What did that mean? Paul tapped his finger to my mouth as he slowed himself down. I licked his finger from knuckle to tip before biting it a little. He smirked at me before his finger made its way to my clit. My face was riddled with shock as he worked my clit, speeding up his thrusting again. Soon, he was pounding me again as he flicked my clit over and over. There was this tightening feeling in my stomach, and I began to gasp and writhe against his touch. He was watching my face as I completely shattered, my body coming off of the bed. "Oh my god!" I exclaimed as I came.

He let the pleasure take over his own body as he made me ride out my orgasm. "Fuck," he grunted as he was thrown off of his rhythm. Paul collapsed next to me in a huff before he covered us with his blanket. I kissed him, making sure to linger as long as possible. Paul smiled against my lips before pecking them again and then my forehead. I rolled over so I could feel his strong arms around me. He kissed my shoulder as I felt myself drift off.

XXXXXXXXX

"Hey Sue," was the first thing I heard the next morning. "Yeah, she's here. She's alright."

The bright morning light greeted me as soon as I cracked open my eyes. The space next to me was still warm, smelling of cake frosting and sex.

The memory of the night before came flooding back and my face instantly broke out into a smile. "Nah, I don't know what happened," Paul lied to my mom on the phone. I could hear him pacing in the living room. "I'm sure she'll be home later."

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, picking up the discarded t shirt from the ground and pulling it over my head. I had this delicious soreness between my legs and my stomach fluttered a little bit. I lazily wandered into the living room, seeing Paul in only a pair of boxers and complete bed head with the phone to his ear. He sighed, nodding his head at whatever Mom was saying, "I don't think Emily coming over here is the best idea, actually. Leah didn't get much rest last night so I'm letting her sleep in."

Leaning against the door frame, I watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, not yet noticing me. I took a minute to admire his physique because, goddamn, he is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, sculpted biceps, toned torso, strong legs. Damn. "I get that Emily's upset, but—," Mom cut him off. "I do care; I just care about Leah more."

I rolled my eyes at my mother's antics and walked over to Paul. I wrapped an arm around his waist and grabbed the phone from his hand. "I'll be home later, Mom," I said before hanging up.

Paul faced me, his eyes soft as he took me in. "Good morning," he smiled. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby," I answered, hugging him. "Sorry about my mom."

He shrugged, placing a kiss on my forehead, "She's just worried about you and Emily."

I smile wryly, "If she only knew…"

Paul made eggs and bacon for breakfast and we spent the rest of the morning in bed. Stolen kisses and sly looks were the highlight of that day. After arguing for five minutes, Paul let me pull up _Grey's Anatomy _on the laptop Billy Black bought him for Christmas. George and Alex were stuck in an elevator with a gunshot wound patient, but I couldn't even focus on that. I found myself watching Paul from the side of my eye. His arm was folded behind his head, and he was super focused on the show. It was wild that this was so comfortable.

Sitting in his t shirt, watching Netflix, and just enjoying each other. He would reach over and hook our fingers for a minute and then move his hand to rest of his naked torso. My mind was still replaying the night before, making my stomach flip every time I thought about him kissing me. And then my mind wandered and thought about how different his kisses were compared to Sam's. Sam. Sam and Emily. Paul wasn't Sam; they're completely different people. But then other girls that I've seen with Paul popped into my head. There were so many of them. He said that what happened last night wasn't just sex and I believed him. Buuuut… "Did you used to do this with Olivia?" I blurted.

He didn't even hesitate. He just snorted a laugh and gave a dry, "No."

Oh. I shifted until I was facing him fully. He glanced at me before focusing on the screen again. "Do you miss her?" I prodded.

"No, Leah, I don't miss Liv," he said in a bored tone.

I pursed my lips and tried to convince myself not to ask the question I _really, really _wanted to ask. Eh, fuck it. "Do you miss the sex?"

Paul sighed as he paused Netflix and then turned to me. He looked at me, bemused. "What's up, Lee? What's on your mind?"

I wasn't sure. I think there's this part of me that was wondering if he was comparing me to other girls the way I couldn't help but compare him to Sam. Paul was checking some of the boxes that Sam had been leaving blank. My friend, Paul, and I crossed a huge threshold and I'm only kind of positive that we both didn't know what that meant for us now. Were we together? Was it a one-time thing? I definitely hoped not.

Paul leaned over and pressed his forehead to mine. "Please don't overthink it. I can practically see the wheels turning in your head."

"I-I just don't want to overcomplicate things if they're not meant to be…" I started before he swooped in to kiss me. That's a great way to shut me up. "complicated," I finished with a sigh.

"It's not," he answered, simply. "Liv doesn't hold a candle to you. She hasn't been on my mind once since we broke things off. You don't have to worry about that."

I wasn't sure if I believed him yet, but I was just going to take it. I just wanted to be in this moment with him; no talks about the future or our families or anything having to do with the outside world. We could just be here with no worries, watching Meredith and Derek and Christina and everyone else fumble around and figure out their own mess. "What does all of this mean then?" I asked somewhat timidly.

Paul's gaze softened and, for a second there, he looked sad. I watched him temper his words before he finally said, "We don't have to know right now. Let's just enjoy this."

The phone rang quite a few times that day. People knocked on the door. But neither one of us even thought about getting up to entertain it. Without any thought about what awaiting outside those for walls, Paul and I could just be.

XXXXXXXXX

That didn't last long though. Because life could never be that simple. When you are one half of the most "influential" couples in the whole school and you take one step out of the car with your ex-boyfriend's best friend to go to school, you would have thought the world exploded. Pair that with the other half of that same couple stepping out of his pickup with your cousin who was due to report to the elementary school across campus? Oh man.

I think all four of us saw each other at the exact same time. As I was grabbing my book bag from the backseat of my car, the familiar slam of Sam's old pickup truck twice. I remember glancing over casually across the lot. Sam was looking down at Emily as she fussed over herself. It was her first day as a TA and she was just sooo nervous. Almost like he knew I was looking, Sam's head raised, and we immediately made eye contact. The range of emotions that circulated Sam's face was something I'd never seen before. He was relieved to see that I was at school then he looked guilty when he remembered what was happening. Then his eyes flicked next to me before a look of absolute rage.

Paul appeared next to me, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around my waist as he asked me if I was alright. I nodded, peeking up at him to see him and Sam glaring at each other. And then there was Emily who looked like a deer caught in headlights. It's like she couldn't decide between feeling guilty, shocked, or confused. She was just as dressed up and perfect as she always was; I think that pissed me off even more on top of everything else. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

As Emily took a step to come over to me, Sam quickly grabbed her hand and shook his head. "Not a good idea," I saw him mouth before leading her toward the elementary school.

Paul pulled me in the opposite direction. "It's not even worth it, Lee," he said. Once I tore my eyes away from my cousin and my (obviously now) ex-boyfriend, I realized that almost everyone in the parking lot was staring at us. Just eyes everywhere and they were all on us. Me and Paul and Sam and Emily. And then they started whispering to each other. I saw little Jacob Black turn to Rachel and Rebecca, pointing over his shoulder and probably asking what was going on with me and Sam. If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right there from the daggers that Olivia Alister's eyes were throwing at me.

I wasn't used to this. It was strange to be the center of attention this way. I was all of a sudden missing that safety of Paul's bedroom and hating this tiny school more and more by the second. "Don't let it get to you. It's alright," Paul whispered in my ear as we walked through the front doors. He walked me to my locker and it was almost like having a body guard.

"God, this is so weird," I mumbled, grabbing one of my books. "Everyone's staring."

"It'll be old news soon. You know how things are around here; people will talk for like five minutes and they'll move on," he told me, encouragingly.

I groaned, "I don't want people talking at all."

The first bell rang. I sighed and closed my locker before leaning on it. Paul turned around and placed a caring hand on my hip. "Keep your head up, Clearwater. I'll find you later."

"We'll take care of her," we heard behind us. Rachel and Rebecca stood there in their twin glory. They were matching today, wearing jeans, their cheer spirit hoodies, and matching high ponytails. Bex had cropped hers and Rach had added small bedazzles to hers. They both smiled at Paul and me, but I could tell just by their faces that they had questions and a lot of them.

Paul nodded at me before leaving to go to class. Bex excitedly jumped closer to me, shaking me by the shoulders. "Spill it," she begged.

Rachel giggled before pulling Bex by her hood. "Relax, Becca, let the girl breathe."

"I need to know before I explode," Becca whimpered.

I laughed and shook my head, clutching my book to my chest. The last time they saw me was right after I caught Sam and Emily and then I disappeared into the night. "Need to know what?" I lightly teased. Bex scowled at me. "I'm still processing everything that happened this weekend."

"Alright, I'll help you! All it is is five little words. I'll help you with the first three," Bex grinned.

"You're the pushiest person I know," I laughed.

"It's ok! You've got this. Ready?" she said before speaking slowly, "I slept with…"

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Rachel reminded me.

"I slept with…" Bex probed.

I tried to suppress my smile before rolling my eyes playfully and declaring, "I slept with Paul Lahote."

Becca erupted into ecstatic screams as she jumped up and down and pulled me into a hug. The few people who were lazily making their way to first period stared at us strangely as they passed. When Bex finally let me go, she was smiling so big, you would think she was the one who finally did it with the guy she's been thinking about for weeks now. Well…it's Rebecca. She's probably done that more times over in the time that it took me to do Paul once. "I knew it! I heard you get up and the first thing I thought was that you were going to Paul's house. I was right."

"It wasn't…like that," I tried to defend myself.

"Girls! Get to class!" Mr. Fallon yelled as he poked his head out of his classroom.

Becca demanded that I come to the old gym during study hall so I could tell them all about it. They bounced down the hall toward their class and me to mine. I was about to turn into my first class of the day when I felt eyes on me. Turning around, I found Sam standing at the end of the hall, staring at me. I couldn't describe the look he was giving me. The only word I could think of was betrayal.

After school, I was walking out of the school when I ran straight into, none other than, my cousin. "Ope!" she exclaimed as her binder dropped to the ground. She bent down to pick it up as she mumbled, "Oh shoot, I'm so sorry."

I saw her before she saw me. She picked up her binder before smoothing down her dress and her hair. I cleared my throat uncomfortably as she stood up straight. Her eyes widened. I pushed past her to leave when she grabbed my hand. I instinctively yanked my wrist from her and walked toward my car where Paul was waiting, leaning on it.

"Leah wait," Emily called.

"I have nothing to say to you," I said, not bothering to look back at her.

"Leah, please! I want to explain!" she begged.

My frustration spiked. I shoved it down as I continued to cross the parking lot. Paul pushed himself off of the car, concern etching his face. From the other side of the lot, I saw Sam standing tall and uneasy, focused behind me. Paul opened the backseat as I geared up to toss my backpack into it. I was about to crawl into the passenger seat when Emily grabbed my hand again. "Leah, you have to talk to me," she said, exacerbated.

I whirled around to face her, my irritation peaking. "I don't _have _to do anything after what you did," I told her.

"Let's not do this," Paul tried to intervene. "Emily, Leah still needs some time to sort out what happened."

Emily's eyes narrowed at Paul. "She doesn't need you to speak for her," she spat.

"I'm not dealing with this," I mumbled, climbing into the car.

Sam called Emily's name from across the lot. My heart squeezed at the sound of his voice calling someone else's name. Emily looked at me longingly as I gave her a blank stare. She hung her head before walking to Sam's truck and climbing in.

That should have been the end of it. At least for that day. But it wasn't. Sam's truck followed us the whole way home. I was hoping that they would go somewhere else. Just to give me a little time to digest and grab some things from my defiled bedroom.

They pulled up right behind us at my house. I sighed, letting my head fall back on the headrest. Paul put a hand on my thigh and said, "We can go somewhere else if you want."

I almost nodded in agreement before I realized that that's stupid. "Why do I have to run away from my own house?" I asked.

"I just want you to be comfortable," he said as I glanced in the right-side mirror. Emily was wiping her sad little tears as Sam spoke oh so gently to her. He reached over to kiss her cheek and I tore my eyes away. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Yes please," I whispered.

It was the face off of a lifetime. Sam and Emily didn't waste any time following us into the house. "So, you're just going to hate me forever then? You won't even let me explain?" Emily started as soon as she could.

"I don't have anything to say to you, Emily, and, frankly, there's nothing you can say that will justify it," I said, setting my bag down in the kitchen.

"Come on, Leah, don't be like that," Sam chimed in.

"Be like what?" I asked indignantly, facing them.

"Sam, butt out," Paul warned. Sam gave the most feral growl I'd ever heard in response. "You've done enough damage, don't you think?"

"What the fuck are you doing here anyway, bro? This has nothing to do with you," Sam snarled.

Paul's chest puffed up. "Yeah, but, unlike you, I actually give a damn about Leah."

"A little bit too much of a damn, if you ask me," Sam said stepping forward.

Footsteps came rushing downstairs. "What in the world is going on down here?" my mother's voice approached us before she did. Usually, she wasn't here this time of day. No one was. She put her hand on my back and spun me around. My father was close behind her, looking very concerned. "Baby girl, we've been worried sick about you."

I let my head hang low as I said, "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you."

She brushed my hair away from my face and tucked a strand behind my ear. "Now," she started, "you all never fight. What's happening?"

Paul snorted as I rolled my eyes, "Convenient," I muttered.

"What, sweetie?" my dad asked.

I turned to Sam and Emily, who were looking as guilty as ever. I flashed a spiteful smile before asking, "Do you want to tell them or shall I?"

"Leah, please don't," Emily said.

"It's only fair," I quipped.

"Leah," Sam spoke in a threatening tone.

I faced my parents again, feeling the tears sting my eyes. "I caught Sam and Emily fucking," I told them.

Both of their faces paled completely. My mother hated when I cursed, but she only cringed for half a second before the news registered for her. My father let out a very faint 'shit' under his breath. "What?" Mom breathed out.

"When you guys dropped me off after Seth's game, I came home to find them together. In my bed." I explained.

"Emily, Samuel, is this true?" Daddy asked.

I waited for one of them to say something. Anything. Mom was rubbing up and down my arms to comfort me. Emily's pathetic, quiet sobs reached my ears and I felt my entire body tense up. "I-I-I didn't m-mean to," she cried. "I never meant to hurt Leah."

"Oh, for the love of God," Paul grumbled.

I squeezed my hands into fists at my sides. "You didn't mean to? What does that even mean?"

As Emily blubbered about the heat of the moment and being so hurt at the idea of me hating her, I felt like I tuned out to preserve the last of my sanity. And then I heard it. "It's alright, Em. We don't have to explain ourselves." Fucking Sam…

I whipped around, eyes blazing. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I shouted. "You fuck my cousin and the only thing you have to say is that you don't have to explain yourself? That's the _least _you could do, you asshole!"

Paul stepped between us before I could hurl myself at Sam. I wanted to tear his throat out.

"How long, huh? How long were y'all sneaking around behind my back? God, you're both unbelievable! You made me look like an idiot. The two people I trusted most in the world and you lied to me," I yelled.

My father came between all of us. "Let's all take a breather," he said.

"No!" I exclaimed. "No, I don't want to take a breather. I don't want to be in the same room with them. I didn't even want to have this conversation!"

"You won't even let me get a word in!" Emily cried.

"Unless you're going to say that he accidentally slipped into your vagina, I don't want to hear it," I sneered.

"Is that what happened with Paul? Did he accidentally slip into your vagina?" Sam threw in.

"What or who I have sex with after you cheat on me is none of your business."

"And I thought you wanted me to stay out of this, _bro_," Paul snapped.

"How long did you wait before you fucked her, Paul, huh? An hour? Maybe two?" Sam asked, his nostrils flaring.

"Still can't own up to his shit. Always deflecting," I rolled my eyes at Sam. I watched as his hands started to shake. "Uh oh, are you going to lose your temper because you got caught in a lie? We still haven't fixed the back door from your last temper tantrum."

"You really don't want to piss me off," Sam growled.

"Samuel," my father commanded. "We will _not _do that in our house."

"Leah, please, let me fix this," Emily begged.

I glared at her. "There's no fixing it," I said definitely. "You're dead to me."

I saw her heart break in that second. In front of me, there was just this stranger. Two strangers. Two people who I never thought would hurt me had made me afraid to go into my own bedroom. The image of them together flashed in my brain again. My boyfriend and my cousin. The two people I couldn't live without.

Then Emily's eyes hardened. I raised an eyebrow in challenge. I knew my cousin. She was sweet to people, but there was always something in her. Something dark. Ever since we were kids, she had the tiniest, fiercest mean streak in her. She always wanted things to go her way and they usually would. But when they didn't, she always had something in her back pocket. Her secret weapon. Emily could hold a secret for years until she knew it was the best bomb to drop at the right time. But there was nothing that I was hiding that was good enough to drop. Oh shit…except for one thing.

"I'm dead to you," she repeated. "Years of being there for you and one little mistake makes me dead to you?"

"You mean the colossal mistake of fucking my boyfriend? Yes," I said. "I trusted you, Emily. I never hid anything from you, and I thought you didn't hide things from me either."

"So, you're throwing away our sisterhood over a misunderstanding?" she asked.

"Penetration doesn't feel like a misunderstanding to me," I corrected.

She made a small humming noise. Then she gave me that look. I knew it well. The 'you'll regret that' look. God, what a sociopath. "Since you don't hide things, Leah," she started, "do Uncle Harry and Aunt Sue know about the 15 acceptance letters that have been sitting in your desk drawer? I'm sure they'd love to hear all about how their baby girl is itching to leave the nest as soon as she steps off of that graduation stage."

"_What?_" my parents both exclaimed. My stomach dropped into my butt and I froze to where I stood.

She was good. Goddamn it, she was good.


	7. Chapter 7

"You should have let me hit her," I said, scrubbing my body down in Paul's shower. The water pressure sucked, but it was scolding enough for me to feel some relief. Between Emily outing me to my parents and my mother's stuttering questions and tears, I couldn't get myself clean enough. After I realized that the secret I had been hiding for months was out, all I remember is my body lunging for my cousin's open throat and her smug face. My hands had just reached her when Sam's ferocious growl was enough for Paul to wrap his arms around my body and pull me outside.

"What would that have solved, Lee?" Paul asked from the other side of the curtain. He was sitting on the toilet waiting for me to get out of the shower, per my request.

"My itch to punch her in her face," I answered, running my hands over my wet hair. The water poured down my face, gifting me with a sense of temporary calm and peace.

"And then what would have happened?"

"I would have felt better because I punched her in the face," I said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Turning the shower off, my eye caught Paul sticking his arm in to hand me a towel. I wrapped myself in the small, brown towel and stepped out of the shower. Paul was facing the door with his head down. I felt a little tickled, "You don't have to turn around," I told him.

He started to look at me and then shook his head, "No, it's alright. Do your thing."

I was trying not to fixate on what happened, but I couldn't help myself! It just replayed over and over and over again; then I would keep bringing it up to Paul over and over again. The look on her face right before she opened her mouth was burned into my brain. So evil. So nasty.

It was almost impressive. She would never usually drop her façade in front of people like that, especially not my parents. I managed to get myself dressed while still bitching about the situation. "I should go back over there and rip her a new asshole," I rambled. I didn't even care if Paul was listening anymore. He was just sitting there on his bed, watching me with his eyebrows raised. Throwing my wet hair into a bun on top of my head, I nodded, "Yeah, I'm going back over there."

Determined to finish this confrontation, I headed for the door. Paul sighed behind me, "No, Lee, you can't go back over there. Just sleep on it."

"I still had time!" I exclaimed. "I had so much more time to figure out what I was going to do…how I was going to tell them…" I paused and looked at him, "or if I wanted to stay."

He met my eye, "You'd need a pretty good reason to stay."

I bit my lip and said softly, "Maybe I have one."

It took a second for him to register what I meant and I watched the lightbulb go off in his head. All of this, everything that we were doing, was still so new, but I couldn't deny what I was feeling for him. And even without saying a word about it, other than that night in my room, I knew he had feelings for me too. Was that enough to stay in La Push? I wasn't sure. Paul cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable with the silence, and spoke, "Let's just get dinner started. That should take your mind off of things."

He may not always have the words, but I could always tell when he was on the same page as me. He took my hand, entwining our fingers, and walked us to the kitchen. He very casually kissed the back of my hand before letting go and pulling out pots and pans. "What do you feel like eating?" he asked. "Burgers, pasta, or fish fry."

"Mmm," I said, thinking about it, "let's do pasta."

"Pasta it is," he said glancing over his shoulder and winking at me. I felt myself smile before I let myself wander around the empty living room. There were big scratches in the hardwood floor and dust in the corners. You could still see small glints of shards of glass near the baseboards, probably from old liquor bottles. The wallpaper was yellowed from years and years of Randall and Diana chain smoking. And there was not one single picture of them as a family or even of Paul growing up in any frame on the mantle.

My heart ached to think about me complaining about my juvenile problems while Paul was literally missing the people that brought him on this earth. He probably thought I was the most self-centered person in the world. I could think of a million reasons why Diana and Randall being gone was a good thing, but those reasons don't matter. What mattered most was that he was hurting. It was evident in his eyes, every single time he thought I wasn't looking. After years of being neglected and rejected by them, they finally left for good and left him nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light flick on from outside the window. My dad unconcernedly stepped outside and set a pack of Chips Ahoy cookies on the porch rail before going back inside. I pursed my lips and continued to watch out the window to see if he was going to do what I thought he was going to do. When Daddy came back outside, it was with two glasses of milk. He placed them next to the cookies and disappeared inside once again.

I immediately headed outside before I could even think about it. Before I got to the door, I turned back to Paul who was stirring something in a pot. Stepping behind him, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my face on his back. He glanced back at me and asked if I was starting to feel better. I nodded, kissing between his shoulder blades. "I'll be back, ok?"

When I was a little girl, my dad told me that everything could be made better with milk and cookies. He was right. Anytime I was upset, Dad and I would sit on the couch, eat Chips Ahoy, and I would tell him all about my problems. My dad always knows the right thing to say.

It had been so hard not to spend time with my dad lately. How do you maintain a relationship when you're both hiding something? I've been hiding my college aspirations and he's been hiding whatever he knows that's going on with Sam and Jared. I wished that he trusted me enough to tell me.

I dragged one of the chairs until they were right next to each other right as Dad came outside with a blanket big enough for both of us. I lowered myself into the seat with a sigh; he handed me a glass of milk before sitting down next to me. My father always read me really well. Even as a small child, I felt like no one really understood me the way my father did. He never pried; he always let me come to him. This time felt different. We didn't speak for a long time; we were both just enjoying the howl of the wind and the gentle tapping of the rain drizzle on the roof.

"Don't eat all of the cookies this time," he joked, bumping my shoulder. I smiled before grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half.

"No promises," I answered. I reached over in front of us to grab the fleece blanket, draping it over both of our legs. Scooting closer until our arms were touching, I was taken in by Dad's familiar scent. He always smelled of saltwater and sandalwood. His hair was graying a lot in the past year, but I think it just made him more distinguished in his age. I chewed on the cookie for a long time before skeptically turning to him, "Are we doing this now?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "Up to you, baby girl."

I sighed and thought through what I wanted to say before I just blurted it out. I was about to be an adult and absolutely capable of making my own decisions. But I also needed to trust my parents enough to know that anything I decide, they'll back me. Even if they think it was a bad idea. "Things are changing," I started. He made a small hum of acknowledgement and nodded, dipping his cookie in his milk. "Some are out of my hands and some…I'm making myself."

"Like?"

Why wait? If I was going to be honest, it needed to be the full story. "About a year ago, I got an email from NYU about their admissions and most popular majors or something like that. It was this picture of one of the buildings in the city and I was just speechless at how beautiful it was. Sam and I had gotten into this big blowout and then I remembered arguing with Mom about something that same week; I was feeling really sad and just…trapped. So I clicked on their website. I found out they have the most incredible art history and fine arts program and I ended up printing out the application.

"I felt so guilty at even thinking about leaving you guys behind that I shredded it the next day. But I don't know what happened; I caught the travel bug or something and I was looking at all of these other schools around the country to see what they had to offer. And then I just applied to as many as I could."

I listened to my dad munch before he swallowed. "Well, Leah honey, that's perfectly normal. Where did you apply?"

"Columbia, NYU, Duke, UMiami…" I trailed off.

"Uh huh, where else?"

"Tulane, Boston University, Wake Forest, Pepperdine…"

"Keep going."

"University of Chicago, Vanderbilt, Penn…"

"Is that it?"

I shook my head. "Northwestern, Georgetown…" I paused. "Peninsula and UW."

"All acceptances?" he asked. He let out an impressive whistle when I nodded. "That's impressive."

"Thank you," I mumbled, swirling my glass around.

I waited for the scolding. The guilt trip. The 'I'm so disappointed in you keeping this from us, Aileah.' But it never came. Instead, he let out a hearty chuckle. I turned my head to face him, bewildered at his amusement. He settled his chuckles with a sigh and said, "Every time I think you're more like your mother, part of me shines through like a goddamn bright light."

"What do you mean?"

Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in so he could kiss me on the forehead. "Baby girl, there's nothing wrong with wanting to leave La Push. I get it," he told me. I watched his face to wait for him to continue. He looked like he was grappling with what to tell me and what not to tell me. "I was feeling the same things when I was your age."

"Really?" I said, perking up a little.

He nodded, "I had this dream of going to Los Angeles to go to film school. I just knew in my soul that I wanted to be a film producer like Orson Welles."

"You would have been good at that," I smiled. My dad was a huge movie buff and sometimes would make commentary on how _he _would have directed a scene. He had an artistic eye, for sure. "Who's Orson Welles?"

"_Citizen Kane_?" he hinted. He deflated when I shook my head. "Anyways, I had this whole plan to move to Los Angeles to pursue film. I trusted my eye and my gut. I wanted to put all of this behind me so I could start fresh."

"What happened?"

He grinned, "I met your mom. At the diner, actually. Billy asked me to go with him so he could meet this girl, your Aunt Sarah, and he told me she was bringing a friend. I knew who she was, but we ran in completely different circles. She just blew me away; she was this incredibly beautiful, funny girl who made obscure movie references and called me out on my shit. She was the one."

"So, you stayed for Mom," I concluded. "You stayed because you fell in love?"

"Not exactly," he said, looking up at the trees, as if the memories were hanging in them. "We spent the whole summer together before senior year started. I was head over heels for her, but she wanted to stay here and knew I wanted to leave. She was supportive of that. We even took a trip to LA for a weekend."

"So, what happened?" I asked.

"We broke up not long after that trip because we were too busy for each other. And then I got rejected from film school. I was crushed. I didn't have a back-up plan. Or 15," he teased. "I was trying to figure it out though. A few weeks later, Sue asked me to meet her at the diner. Said she had something to tell me. I thought she had met someone else. But that's not what it was at all."

He paused for a second to look at me. Dad tucked my stray hairs behind my ears before stroking his thumb across my cheek. "She was pregnant…" I whispered.

Dad nodded. "Our baby girl was born premature, 5 pounds, 5 ounces, and a fighter. And you have kept us on our toes ever since."

I chewed on my lip as I digested his words. "But…if she hadn't gotten pregnant, you would have still left."

He sighed, "I remember asking her to come with me. I also remember struggling with the idea of leaving her and my parents behind, much like you. I think there are some things that are destined to happen though. You were always meant to be here and I was always meant to be your dad.

"So, after we both graduated high school, I found a job working for the Council and I loved it. I took a couple of film classes at Peninsula, but it just didn't compare to watching you grow up. I kept film as a hobby though and you were always right there next to me. Then one day, you picked up a camera and held it up to your face; it felt like this sign that you, in some way, would pick up my love for art. You were only 2 years old, but I felt it.

"My point is," he paused. "Mine might have been a pipe dream, but, baby girl, yours isn't. That's evident in you being accepted into so many schools. I would do it all over again if I knew I could give you the world that you want."

"But what about Mom? She's always asked me to do something more practical. I kind of just assumed that you agreed with her."

"We're both on your team," he told me. "Your mom just worries. The world is big and scary, Leah. She wants you to be safe, but I know how important it is to step outside your boundaries."

I contemplated his words. They made sense. I just wish it hadn't felt this complicated. "I just didn't know how to tell you guys. And I thought if I waited too long…maybe I'd find a way to be happy here. I thought Sam and nursing school and babies were somehow going to be my life's plan. But then he started skipping school and yelling at me and then…this whole Emily thing. It was like this big flashing sign telling me to get out."

"Then what happened?"

I watched the cookie crumble between my fingers. "Paul happened…" I said.

"Ah," Dad nodded. "Honestly, if that boy knew what was good for him, he'd get out of here too. I don't want to see him end up like Rand. Especially now that…" he trailed off. Dad shook his head, "Never mind. I stand by what I said. He needs to get some life in him."

"I think so too," I agreed. We sat quietly. I could hear Seth yelling at his video game from his open window directly above us. Looking across the yard, I could see Paul walking from the kitchen into his bedroom and then back again. The thought of one of my parents seeing us that night haunted me for a second. "He's been good for me," I told my dad.

"I can tell," he said honestly. "You can stay with him until we get this Emily situation under control. But the second Randall and Diana come back, you bring your butt back home."

If he only knew… "Yes Dad."

XXXXXXXXX

He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. He always looked stern when he was moving through his day. But right now, he was at peace. I traced a finger gently down the bridge of his nose and watched him sigh, contently. I leaned forward and placed a ginger kiss on his lips. He flinched before relaxing.

Paul had offered to sleep on the floor next to the bed when I came back, but I told him that was dumb and he should be able to enjoy his own bed. He somewhat hesitantly climbed in next to me, sleeping only under the comforter, not the sheet. I couldn't sleep though. I was thinking about everything my dad told me. All it takes is one event to completely change the course of your life. My dad had to figure out a whole new life because of me.

Maybe this meant that I'm supposed to do something huge to make him proud. The least I could do was give the world a chance. Play by my own rules. Do what I want to do.

I kissed Paul's lips again, a little harder. It took a second, but I felt him lazily kiss me back. "Why are you awake?" he whispered against my lips.

"I can't sleep," I whispered back.

Paul's eyes began to open, heavy with sleep. He wiped a hand down his face before shifting onto his back. "We have school in the morning," he rasped. "You need to get some rest."

He opened his arms to invite me in for a cuddle. I snuggled up close to him, sliding my arm around his torso. My wheels were turning. He began to softly snore again. My head popped up to look at him. I poked his cheek. He moved away from my prodding. "Paul…" I loud whispered.

"Go to sleep, Clearwater," he said sternly. I rested my chin on his chest, staring at his face. It took a second before his eyes popped open again. "That doesn't look like sleeping."

"I have a question," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "What if we didn't go to school tomorrow?"

"You never skip."

I shrugged. "There's a first time for everything. We should do something fun."

He chuckled. "Like what? Watch _Grey's Anatomy _again?"

"No," I sighed. "What about San Juan?"

His brows knit together. "San Juan Islands? That's 5 hours away, Lee."

I looked up at him through my lashes and smiled coyly, "Aren't you the one that told me to live a little?"

He smirked at me, remembering his words. Then he shook his head before rolling over and going back to sleep.

At the crack of dawn, we were in the car heading north. Windows down, music blaring, going 90 in a 75. I usually hated watching the sunrise, but the sky was a beautiful orange that morning. Mom and Dad used to take us to San Juan all the time when we were kids. It's just this magically wonderful place where you can do everything under the sun. From ziplining to whale watching, it used to be one of my favorite places to visit. San Juan was our SeaWorld…without the animal cruelty. It took two hours to drive and then three hours on the ferry; that was plenty of time to talk and laugh and eat breakfast. Paul and I shared a croissant breakfast sandwich and watched all of the excited children run around. At one point, he turned to me and said, "Remember when that was us?" and I just smiled.

It was a beautiful day! It was that time a year for the annual concerts and festivals. People from all over the west coast come to San Juan to take in the beautiful views and wonderful talent of local musicians and artists. Other teenagers, clearly skipping like us, walked around the festival grounds with ice cream cones and cotton candy. I saw this older couple sitting on a bench, the gentleman leaning down to kiss the lady on the forehead.

Paul and I stopped in front of one of the stages to watch this indie band perform. The lead singer was beautiful; her brown hair was wild and fizzy, framing her face. She moved gracefully across the stage as the notes flowed flawlessly from her mouth. She sang about broken love; two people who love each other so deeply but just can't get the timing right. The airy music was the perfect soundtrack for a beautiful morning. Then, as the day progressed, the music began more playful and faster paced.

People around us were swaying and bobbing to the beat of the music, under the warm sun. Paul and I stayed to listen for a while, dancing every once and a while. He grabbed my hand and spun me around before pulling me close to him. I noticed how he kept a couple of inches in between us, his hand firmly placed on my hip. Smiling up at him, I lifted his hand and watched as he turned himself around, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

I could tell there was something on his mind that day, but I didn't want to bother him with questions. After staying for a show or two, we wandered around the land. We had the whole day to do whatever we wanted. It was just like old times; we went to the arcade and goofed around in the antique shops. I stumbled upon one of those photobooths and made Paul take pictures with me. He looked at me in amusement and called me a cliché; I told him to stop being so uptight, like he had told me a million times before. Sometime in the afternoon, we found ourselves in the gallery, speaking in hushed tones and brushing against each other every five seconds. Looking at all of the Native art, I was filled with such joy and excitement. "So, they have a bunch of pieces from reservations all over the west coast," I told Paul. He stood behind me, studying some masks on the wall. "Tlingit and Kwaguilth and even Makah are here. It's like a living anthology of how our cultures have evolved from each other."

"Why aren't we in here?" he asked.

I shrugged, "You know how protective the Council is about our art," I answered. "I kind of like that our stuff is only ours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's like our secret."

Most of the art was nature focused. Every piece was a deeper look into how people view the natural world and everything is symbolizes. I stayed to admire a painting while Paul wandered off into another room. When I found him, he was staring intently at a statue. His brows were knitted together as he cocked his head to the side. I appeared beside him and saw a beautiful piece I had seen before in my art history class. "This is the Wolf Dancer," I spoke lowly to him. "It's Alaskan."

"How do you know all this stuff?" he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder.

"One of us has to pay attention in class," I teased, bumping him. "What do you see?"

His jaw clenched as he studied it more. "It just looks like…a man to me. I can't stop looking at it though."

I nodded, "It's a gorgeous piece of art so that's understandable."

"No…it feels like something else. I don't know," he sighed. "What do you see?"

"Well, you know the wolf dance is about the ritual of young men being overtaken by the wolf spirit. It's kind of similar to those weird legends that Billy Black is always telling at bonfires. So you can look at it like he is just a wolf dancer. A participant in this tradition, but see how his arms are stretched out wide?" I asked, pointing. Paul nodded. "Part of me thinks that he's in the midst of a transformation. The change from man to wolf."

He snorted, "Yeah, as if that's possible."

"In art, everything is possible," I told him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He wandered closely behind me throughout the rest of the gallery before we left to go to the beach. In the distance, you could see whales pop their heads out of the water for the tourists. The wind blew over us a little, the saltwater spraying our faces a little. The nostalgia was a little overwhelming for me. Ever since my dad's confession that he was so close to leaving La Push behind to be in film, it felt like a lot more things made sense. "Do you remember when Mom and Dad would bring us every year for film fest?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," Paul chuckled. "Film fest was the first time I learned what a vacation was."

Mom and Dad would pull Paul, Seth, and me out of school for a full week, every October to come to San Juan Islands to go to their annual film festival. I had never seen my parents drop that much money on anything before. The three kids would stay in a separate room in one of the bed and breakfasts and we could really do whatever we wanted. We went every year until Paul and I started high school. By then, we were too busy with everything else. I had volleyball; Paul had football. We were growing up.

Paul sighed beside me, but it just sounded so dejected and sad. "It's kind of hard to think that this could be the last time I get to be out here with you," he admitted, "you know, before you leave."

I blinked in surprise before I turned to him. He was sitting a very obviously intentional distance away from me. His forearms were resting on his knees as he stared out to the ocean. "Is that why you're being so weird?" I asked.

"Am I being weird?"

I gestured toward the empty space between us. "Are you?" I challenged.

He blew out a breath before scooting closer to me. With juuust a little room for Jesus. "It doesn't feel fair," he said quietly. Then he laughed humorlessly. "Then again, is anything actually fair?"

"What are you talking about, Paul?"

When he looked at me, it was guarded. "I don't know what to do, Lee. I don't know how I'm supposed to say goodbye to you when it's time. I…" he trailed off for a second, "I finally have you and I still can't have you. The timing just sucks, I guess…"

He looked like he had something else to say, but his words stopped there. I didn't know what to say either. There were so many things that I was feeling and I wasn't sure how to make it better. "It doesn't have to be goodbye," I said to him.

"Be real, Clearwater. As soon as you step foot outside this place, you're not coming back."

"That's not true."

"How is it not true?"

"I have a whole life here!" I exclaimed. "My parents, Seth, the twins, you. I would never just turn my back on that."

A small family passed us, rendering us to silence. The little boy chased the younger girl down the shoreline, kicking up as much sand and water as possible. I watched them for a few seconds, joyed by their joy. The parents weren't far behind, hands entwined, just strolling down the beach. "I'm…" Paul started before taking a deep breath. "I'm falling in love with you, Lee. But I'm never going to be the person that asks you to stay for me. I'm not Sam. And I'm not going to ask you to come back if you don't want to come back."

My heart skipped. "What did you just say?"

"I…fuck," he cursed. "I didn't want to tell you this way. I almost didn't want to tell you at all. This sucks. Being here with you, sleeping next to you at night, cooking dinner for just us, it all feels like…"

"Something you want to get used to?"

He nodded.

"So come with me," I blurted. He immediately started to protest, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him. "We've talked about getting out of here our whole lives. Right now, I have the ticket to do just that. In 6 months, we could be sitting on the fire escape of a tiny Brooklyn apartment or listening to jazz in the French Quarter or hanging out on South Beach."

He chuckled mirthlessly as he shook his head, "It all sounds great, but you don't even know where you want to be yet."

"Does that matter?" I asked seriously. I shifted my whole body until I was facing Paul. "You're not the only one feeling this way, Paul. A future doesn't end in La Push. We could figure this out, the two of us; come with me."

He searched every part of my face to see if I was serious. I looked back at him, unblinking, showing him that, yes, I meant it; yes, I had feelings for him; and yes, I could see us together outside of La Push. "What would I even do?" he asked, nervously.

I smiled, "Whatever you wanted. Go to cooking school during the day, work some janky part time job on the weekends, and then we can just be together every second we can. You and I…we get to know the world as much as possible and do what _we_ want to do, not what our parents or our friends or anyone else wants us to do. Dad thinks it would be so good for you to get out; if you come with me, we can take care of each other like we always have. We could both have a real chance to do something amazing for our future."

He hesitated before putting his hand over mine and linking them together. "So, what are you saying, Clearwater?"

I leaned over and kissed his lips ever so softly. "I'm saying I'm falling for you too," I whispered. "I don't want me leaving for college to be the end. Don't let it be the end."

XXXXXXXXX

We fell into a nice little groove after that day. I spent most of my days at Paul's where we started acting like an old married couple, taking naps and finishing all thousand seasons of _Grey's_. When I wasn't at Paul's, I was sleeping on the couch at my house, avoiding my bedroom at all costs. We hadn't had sex since that night, but neither of us really minded it; we just enjoyed being with each other. I got him to actually consider going to school for his passion; he fought me on it for so long. Paul thought that he didn't have the level of talent to go to cooking school, but he was wrong.

Emily surprised all of us by moving in with Sam a few weeks after I caught them in my bed. I happened to be walking up to the house when she came outside with her bookbag on her back and her suitcase trailing behind her. We didn't speak to each other. Her eyes were just filled with spite and evil as she passed me. It didn't matter though. Now that my family knew I was thinking about leaving, I could actually start to consider it seriously.

Speaking of leaving, Bex finally told Rachel, Jacob, and Billy that she wanted to go to school in Hawaii. While Billy was ultimately unshocked by his child's shock-value antics, Rachel and Jacob's reactions were more than over the top. Rachel was trying to wrap her mind around not being next to her twin every day for the rest of her life; Jacob was stoked to be able to visit the island whenever he wanted.

I'm not gonna lie, I was getting really excited about life after high school now. Not only was I falling in love with my best friend, but I was _this _close to figuring out where we both would thrive. Most nights were spent looking at breathtaking pictures of my options. As we neared closer to graduation, I found myself between New York, Boston, and New Orleans. Columbia, Boston University, and Tulane, to be exact. "Why do you have to go so far, Leah?" my mom had pouted.

"Craving adventure, Mama!" I told her, kissing her cheek. "But I'll always visit, I promise."

We spent all spring break riding our parents' boats and living it up as much as possible before the end. Or the beginning. Or the beginning of the end, maybe? Anyways, I was feeling good; life with Paul was so easy. Sure, the infamous group of six had drastically changed in the course of a few months, but it was almost better that way. Instead of six, now it was only four of us. Jared was busy following Sam around like a lost puppy dog. Not only that, but these two sophomores, Embry and Quil I think, started going through the same weird growth spurt and exploding anger; it wasn't long before they were following Sam around too.

None of the adults wanted to really acknowledge what was happening and that didn't seem right to me, but what could I do? Bex said that Billy was being super secretive too, not so subtly alluding to some big changes coming to the reservation. She said that, as long as Jacob stayed out of it, she didn't care. We had two more months before we were out.

A year ago, I would have been completely obsessed with getting ready for prom and making sure that everything was perfect. Rachel, Rebecca, and I would be on our way to Port Angeles to shop in the one prom shop in the area. I would be sending Sam his tux options and color-coordinating everything down to his pocket square. A year ago, everything needed to be exactly right.

This year, Paul surprised me with that spontaneity that I'd always loved. The night before prom, he looked at me and said that he booked us a hotel room in Seattle for the weekend. I guess that travel bug got him good. I didn't have to worry about making sure that my dress would fit the day of; no struggling to breathe because I had one too many of Paul's homemade cinnamon rolls or stuffing my bra the day of because my boobs were swollen when I bought it. Instead, I was packing snacks and making sure that my car had enough gas to get us there. I was scratching the back of Paul's head as he drove, watching the small smile form on his face because it felt good. Rachel had told me before we left that she was sad I wouldn't be going to prom, but she loved how happy I looked.

We ripped our way through Seattle, laughing and dancing and…living. I could feel myself getting high on that feeling. Breathing in the big city life was much more comfortable than I expected. Paul looked like he was having a good time too. He even got to talk to the chef at one of the restaurants we went into. When Chef Owen made a surprise appearance at our table to ask how we liked the food, Paul showered him with compliments and then asked him something about his technique while braising or broiling something. We ended up staying after hours to Chef Owen and Paul could talk more. He was hanging onto the chef's every word. Nearing midnight, Owen gave Paul his card and told him, "Whenever you're ready to work, give me a call."

Now here we were. Graduation day. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a little sad in all of this happiness. It was all just a little bit bittersweet. The days in my hometown were officially numbered. And nothing was the way I thought it would be. It was my last summer with my best friends. My last summer before stepping into the real world and learning who I wanted to be. And I would be doing all of it with the person I want by my side. That's all that mattered.

"Shit…" Speak of the devil. "These pants don't fit," he grumbled. I turned around and saw him staring down at his only pair of slacks, which were about two inches too short. He was feeling a touch stressed this week, but I was hoping it wouldn't affect his mood too much tonight. We had graduation, family dinner, and then our last party on the beach as high school students.

"Did you grow overnight or something? You just wore those to senior dinner," I said, putting my mascara down.

He shrugged. "I don't have anything else to wear."

"Just take them to my mom. She can figure out how to fix them," I told him, standing up. We still had time before we had to be at the school. I wrapped my arms around his waist to hug him and was thrown off by how warm he was. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, it's just hot in here," he said, looking down at me. He captured my lips quickly before stepping away from me to take off his pants. "I'll be back, baby."

Mom saved the day, of course. Then we were at our school, for the last time. All of the students were crowded in the parking lot, a sea of maroon caps and gowns. Paul held my hips as I guided us through the crowd, looking for Rachel and Rebecca. My heels made up for that strange additional two inches that Paul had grown overnight, and I could feel him easily press a kiss to the back of my head. "We did it," he whispered in my ear. "We finally made it out."

To my surprise, Jared was with the twins, waiting to walk in with the rest of the graduates. He looked about as normal as he could be. He had a bright smile on his face and his tall frame was bouncing up and down in anticipation. Rachel and Rebecca looked like ants compared to his giant. But as soon as he saw Paul, he stopped bouncing and just scanned his body from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He reached around Rachel's head to give Paul the man-shake, eyeing him closely. "How's it going, brother? You feelin' alright?" Jared asked.

"I'm fine, bro. Living the life. Everything good?" Paul returned.

Jared shrugged. "It is what it is, my man," was all he said.

"What is this man-speak?" Bex asked, craning her neck to look at both of them. "Can't you guys just talk like regular people?"

Paul chuckled at Becca before looking at Jared, "Let's hook up at the beach party later, bro."

Principal River's assistant, Ms. Cheyenne, called for everyone to line up in order by last name. So, Rachel and Rebecca stood in front of Jared who stood in front of me. I couldn't even see over him, he was so tall now. I glanced behind me to see Paul dap up Ollie Jennings before standing behind him. He caught my eye and winked at me. I felt my cheeks flush before glancing down the rest of the line. Right there at the end was my cousin, smiling up at my ex-boyfriend as she took his cap off her head and leaned up to place it back on his head. He gave her the most pure and loving look I'd ever seen.

Paul saw me looking behind him and turned his head. When he looked back at me, he shook his head and mouthed, "Don't worry about them." I nodded before turning around and following Jared into the auditorium. Well…it was the cafeteria with fold up chairs, but same thing. Pomp and Circumstance played as we passed all of the parents, older and younger siblings, family friends. Everyone looked so happy and excited for us. I reached for my mom's hand as we passed; she had tears of joy streaming down her face. She squeezed my hand affectionately before releasing it to clap with the rest of the parents. Dad nodded at me, giving me his proud papa look. Seth was pumped his fist in the air, the little weirdo.

"Welcome, friends, family, faculty, staff, and the Class of 2014," Principal Rivers' voice boomed through the speakers. He droned on for way too long about his favorite superhero and somehow tied that to our future and our potential. It was Green Lantern, by the way. Green Lantern was his favorite superhero. Green Lantern is no one's favorite superhero.

I leaned over Jared to grab Bex. "How much longer is he going to talk?"

"You know they drag these things out forever. We should have taken a couple of shots before walking in," she whispered.

"Please welcome to the stage our valedictorian, Rachel Black."

Rachel gave this inspiring speech about how all of our lives could be compared to a butterfly's. How we grow from a caterpillar, hungry for life and knowledge, before we are wrapped up in the safety net of our education and our families. "…as we sit here today, surrounded by our loved ones, we know that we are close to being able to spread our wings and flutter out into the world. The potential in all of us is endless…"

I wondered as she spoke if there was ever going to be a time when we were all going to be in the same room again. Would there ever be a time when I will be with this same group of people? If so, would it even be the same? After we walk out of those doors, we will never be the same as we were in those long days in the classroom. But, maybe that was a good thing. We're not meant to stay the same people as we are in high school. If we were, we would never learn.

"…instead of saying this is the end of a chapter, I like to think of it as the beginning. The moment we step across this stage will be the first day of a brand-new adventure. We will explore every corner of the map; we will be subject to successes, failures, love, heartbreak, wonderful friends, and even more wonderful lessons. We, hopefully, will be unafraid to make mistakes and to push our boundaries, no matter how uncomfortable. Every day spent outside these walls is another day for us to learn who we truly are and who we want to be. To my class of 2014, I'm so proud of you and everything you've accomplished so far. And notice, I say 'so far' because we are so far from being finished changing the air around us. Congratulations, graduates! You deserve the world that is now at your fingertips."

We all stood and clapped for Rachel as she looked out to all of us, tears brimming in her eyes. She locked eyes with me and blew me a kiss. I smiled at her and blew one back. My sweet Rachel. Then I watched as her eyes drifted left toward Rebecca, that fateful tear dropping and rolling down her cheek. I knew today would be hard for her. With Bex leaving for Hawaii soon, this would be Rachel's first time away from her twin for more than an overnight stay. Even then, it wasn't often they were going anywhere without each other. Rachel turned and was handed her diploma before she walked off stage and sat next to her twin. I watched them hug for a long time, Bex saying probably the sweetest and most sincere and genuine things ever to her sister.

As we lined up to grab our diplomas, my stomach filled with butterflies. Last summer, I had started looking at this year in terms of steps. First day, midterms, Thanksgiving, finals, Christmas. First day, midterms, spring break, prom, graduation. Every time one of those steps came and went, I would check it off like it was a regular list. But now that I'm standing here, waiting for Principal Rivers to get through the rest of the Bs, I was feeling like I should have cherished more moments with my parents, my brother, my best friends, Paul. Was I in such a rush to get out of here that I breezed through my senior year? "Rebecca Sophia Black," Rivers called. I clapped along with the rest of the auditorium, adding a loud "woo-hoo!" as Bex crossed the stage.

"Jared Cameron." I could hear Pam Cameron clapping harder and louder than anyone else as her only baby boy crossed the stage. I had heard from eavesdropping on a phone call between my mom and Pam that she was worried Jared was skipping so much, he wasn't going to graduate. "I thought they'd have better control over it by now," my mom had said in response. Whatever that meant.

"Aileah Clearwater," yanked me out of my thoughts. It was almost like I was on autopilot. Take a step and another and another. Shake hands with Principal Rivers with right hand, take diploma with left. I hear Seth before I hear my parents. He's the loudest out of everyone, excitable and rowdy. And then I hear Rachel and Rebecca.

And then I hear Paul. "That's my girl!"

I look out to the crowd and see Dad snapping pictures that I make sure to smile bright for. Leah Clearwater, high school graduate. It's about time.

When Paul crossed the stage, he looked as confident as ever. I wondered if he even noticed that his parents weren't there. He was so loved at school though, it didn't matter. Applause and cheers for him were loud and proud. I stood up and clapped for him as he grinned for Dad's camera. My heart swelled. That's my guy. That's my Paul.

I went straight to him when the ceremony was over. I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him, squealing in excitement. He spun me around, a deep sigh of content leaving his body. "I'm so proud of you, Lee," he said in my hair.

"Proud of _me_?" I asked incredulously. "I'm proud of _you_!"

XXXXXXXXX

After millions of pictures, so many tears, and countless hugs from classmates I've acquainted with over the years, the rest of the day was kind of a blur. Mom and Dad took us to this cute place in Port Angeles where Mom happy cried into her pasta and Dad showered both of us with compliments.

Dad raised his beer glass in a toast, "Cheers to the graduates. We couldn't be prouder of both of you for your accomplishments."

"Cheers!" Seth exclaimed a little too loud, clinking his water glass to ours.

"So, we actually have a gift for both of you," Mom said, reaching under the table. She pulled out two envelopes, one regular, one manilla, addressed to me and Paul respectively in her perfect cursive writing. "Just a little something to look forward to."

Inside my envelope were, not just one or two, but three plane tickets with my name on them. New York, Boston, and New Orleans. "No way…" I breathed. I looked up at my parents in shock. "No way!"

"Whoa," Paul said next to me. He pulled out the same plane tickets that I had and then a bunch of brochures. I only saw a picture of fancy plated food on the front. "Harry, Sue…I don't know if I can accept these tickets. They must have cost a fortune."

"You shouldn't worry your little head about the cost of a plane ticket," Mom scolded him. "This is your last summer with us and we wanted to make sure that you both get to fly free a little bit. We want to invest in you, both of you."

"We set up some tours for you, Paul. For culinary school. It's time to get real about your future, kid. Don't let your talent go to waste."

Paul stared at the contents of his envelope, rendered speechless. He fingered one of the brochures between his fingers, feeling the thick card stock cover. The Institute of Culinary Education in New York City. "I-I don't know what to say," he said quietly.

"Just say thank you, bro!" Seth said, shrugging dramatically.

Paul blew out an uneasy breath before choking out a 'thank you'. I already knew where his head was. He was nervous about the cost. He was nervous about other people taking care of him. Dad hadn't mentioned Randall and Diana not coming back, but I knew he already knew they were gone for good. He felt guilty that this kid had to deal with these things by himself. He wanted better for Paul. But Paul was prideful; he never wanted to be the charity case. Coming over for dinner and staying over on the couch was different than the possibility of my parents potentially putting him through school. "We just want you to take the tours for now, Paul," Mom said softly. "And then later we can talk about next steps. If you want."

He nodded before asking if we could change the subject. I placed a tender hand on his leg under the table. He looked at me with this emotion filled gaze that I could barely identify one of them. Instead of asking him what was wrong, I just smiled at him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. His skin was really warm against my lips, but I didn't dare mention it. "Just try to relax," I whispered to him. He nodded again, as if that was the only response he could warrant at that moment.

Eventually, he warmed back up and engaged in the rest of our celebratory dinner before we headed back to La Push so we could go to our last high school bonfire at the beach. Before we left for the beach, Paul and I were sitting on his bed, the six tickets laying in between us. He kept staring at them and sighing. "I can't believe this is real," he managed.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He looked up at me and smiled softly. Paul moved the tickets before hooking his hands under my knees and pulling me until I was straddling him. His strong arms wrapped around my waist and he sighed again. "All of this. You. Your family. Graduation. I could only dream that this day would actually come. Now it's here and damn near over."

"This just means we have so much more to look forward to," I told him, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "And right now, we have friends waiting for us at the beach."

He smirked, pulling me tighter. "They can wait."

He kissed me with such love and ferocity, it made me dizzy. I let out a small moan, loving the feeling of his body on mine. It wasn't long before I felt his hands slide under my dress. I didn't mind how warm he was; it felt so good.

I felt my hips start to move against his hardening groin. The friction was perfect. The soft lace of my panties rubbed against the roughness of his jeans. He groaned against my neck, gently biting down. My back arched at the feeling and my eyes rolled back a bit. "I want to make you cum, Lee," he rasped. I gasped quietly at his words. "Can I?"

"Um…" was all I said. His head shot up and he looked at me concerned. I bit my lip and looked down. The truth was that I had only had one orgasm in my entire life and that was the night I showed up at Paul's door soaking wet and needing his presence. "I want you to," I told him. "I-I've just never…"

"Never…?" he prodded.

"Well, n-not _never_. But I…" I stuttered.

"Lee, talk to me."

I groaned as my head fell on his shoulder. I snaked my arms around his neck and tried to make myself as small as possible. Paul ran his fingers through my hair and tried to coax me into looking at him. I shook my head before blurting, "I've only orgasmed once ever, and I don't know if I'll be able to do it again."

His hand stopped combing through my hair abruptly and he grew quiet. I waited for him to say something, anything. He snorted a laugh, chuckling heartily from the depths of his soul. I looked at him with rage pouring out of me. "It's not funny!" I exclaimed, slapping his chest. I kept hitting him as he continued to laugh. "Paul!"

"Ok, ok, ok," he laughed, grabbing my hands. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting that."

"It's not funny," I repeated, pouting.

"You're right, it's not funny," he settled down. "So…Sam never…"

I shook my head.

"Yikes," he said, raising his eyebrows. Then he smirked. "Well, I'm going to have to teach you then."

I yelped as he grabbed two fistfuls of my ass and threw me down on my back. He attacked my neck first, pinning my arms down to the bed. He moved down toward my breasts, his soft lips trailing my skin. I felt like my body was breaking into goosebumps. Paul pulled my dress down, exposing me. "I always want you to feel good," he breathed before taking my breast into his mouth. "With or without me."

"I always feel good with you," I gasped. Paul slipped his hand under my dress and became to touch me through my panties. When I reached for his jeans, he threw my hand away and shook his head. He rubbed my clit over my wet lace underwear. "Wait, I wanna touch you."

He shook his head again as his tongue flicked around my nipple. "It's not about me right now."

It felt like he was teasing me forever. He paid attention to every single inch of my body before he finally pulled my panties to the side, hiked my leg up and held my knee, and pushed his fingers into me. I moaned loudly at the feeling, my back arching off the bed. He moved until he was eye to eye with me again and confidently said, "I'm not going to fuck you again until you learn how to cum."

"That's not fair," I moaned.

"That's why I'm doing this," he told me before crashing his lips to mine. He started thrusting his fingers inside me until I was panting uncontrollably. "Sex should make both parties orgasm, not just the man."

"Can you shut up?" I groaned, grinding against his movement. His thumb popped out and started rubbing my clit back and forth. "Oh god!"

That seemed to spur him on more. He picked up his pace, burying his face in my neck again. He bit down on that place between my neck and shoulder before kissing it softly. I felt my breathing catch as every single muscle in my body started to tighten.

"Don't stop," I moaned. "Paul, please."

He groaned. "Oh, you don't need to beg me, baby. I'm gonna make sure you cum."

I didn't think there was anything that he could do that could guarantee that. I felt it; just like before, I was right on the edge of it, but I was worried I couldn't go over the cliff. And then he did it. He curved his fingers inside me hitting something that had never been touched before. The scream escaped my mouth before I could stop it as I completely shattered. I grabbed his arms to stop him, but he was stronger than me and he let me know he wanted me to ride it out.

I started to come down and I was seeing stars. Paul kissed all over my face and gave me a second to gather myself. I looked at him and he smiled at me and shrugged. "That's my girl."

I was in a daze. Getting redressed and walking to the car and getting to the beach. All of it was a daze. I couldn't stop smiling. My head was just fogged over what just happened. When we finally made it to the beach, it was like walking into a madhouse. Grads everywhere just getting fucked up and throwing things into the fire. Mostly their caps and gowns.

Paul intwined our fingers as we walked toward the beach. We were halfway there when he stopped, "Shit, I forgot something in the car. I'll be right back," and he turned back around.

"Psst! Hey Leah!" I heard. I looked around and didn't see anyone. It was just dark. "Lee! Over here!"

Towards the woods, there was Jared, standing in a pair of really uneven cut-off jeans, no shirt, and no shoes. He was waving his hands over his head to get my attention. I waved back at him before turning around toward the beach.

"Leah," Jared called again. "Come here."

"What's up, Jared?" I asked, walking toward him. He gestured inside the treeline. It wasn't weird. Come on, it was La Push. Most of this place was woods.

Jared faced me and looked all around us. Like he was trying to keep something secret. Like he was avoiding someone. "Hey, so…I know things have been weird lately. But I really need to talk to you."

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

He stopped for a second, listening for something, before looking down at me. "There's a lot of shit going on around here. I can't exactly tell you what, but I just need to say this to you before something happens."

"Spit it out, Jared. You're freaking me out."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. Then he dropped his arm, stood straight up, and locked eyes with me. He looked so serious. "You need to get Paul out of here as soon as possible."


	8. Chapter 8

"What are you talking about, Jared?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Just trust me when I say it would be best for him to leave La Push," Jared said, his voice lowering every second. As if someone was listening to us. Then he kind of mumbled to himself, "Maybe it'll skip him altogether or…slow it down…"

"Slow what down?" I stepped closer to him. He instinctively moved away from me. "What's going on? Talk to me."

He blew out a harsh breath as he looked around again. "I can't…I can't tell you what's going on. Can you just listen to me? I know you guys go on your little road trips. Take him somewhere for a week…or two. Just go, please."

"Jared," a deep voice boomed from the west of us, deep into the trees. We both looked in the direction of the voice and saw Sam as he stepped into our line of sight, wearing these strange cutoff jeans shorts and no shirt. His face was hard as he shook his head at Jared. His eyes darted to me and they softened for a fraction of a second. The guilt washed over his face quickly before he jerked his head back where he came from. "Let's go," he said to Jared.

Jared opened his mouth to protest before just nodding. Before he walked away, he looked at me again and said as quietly as he could, "He's my brother, Lee. Help him."

What did that mean? What was he talking about? Why are he and Sam hanging out in the woods? I had a million questions and I realized fairly quickly that I wouldn't get any answers to them. As I stumbled out of the woods, Paul was walking back from the car, slipping his phone into his pocket. When he saw me, he smiled and threw an arm around my shoulders. He kissed me on the forehead as we began to walk to the beach. "Are you alright, love?" he asked.

I nodded mindlessly. "Yeah…" I said, feeling confused and a little uneasy.

Uneasy or not, I took Jared's advice. The next week, we left for Boston. It was the first time either of us had stepped foot on a plane. He was fearless; I wasn't. I gripped his hand the entire time we were off the ground, eyes glued to the window.

The city was beautiful, filled with ageless architecture and countless people. Never had I heard a stronger accent than that of the locals. We stayed in this adorable bed and breakfast in Cambridge and drove everywhere in the city. I had an interview with the admissions counselor at Boston University while Paul took his tour of the Cambridge School of Culinary Arts. I wanted so badly to be there with him while he took in his possible future, doing what he loved, but he insisted that he would be just fine by himself.

I wish I could say that Jared wasn't lingering in the back of my mind the entire time we were in Boston. I didn't want to worry Paul with what he said, so every time Paul asked me what was wrong, I would tell him that making a decision was stressing me out. We had a full month of traveling ahead of us, nonstop. Hopefully, whatever Jared wanted me to keep Paul from was over. Or slowed down. Or whatever he said.

To my surprise, Sam's name popped up on my phone a couple of times that week. After I didn't answer the first three times, he left the most cryptic voicemail, saying: "_Hey Lee Lee, uh, it's Sam…duh…you already knew that. I, uh, was thinking about you yesterday and, uh…can you give me a call back? You've just been on my mind a lot lately and, um, I want to make it right. I think you deserve some answers so…I really need to talk to you. Just you though! I…this is Sam. Ok, bye…_"

There was nothing Sam could say that would make it right though. I didn't even want it to be right; at least not his version of right. It felt like every minute we were away from La Push, the closer we were to cloud nine. We would sleep in late and have brunch at this cute little place in Cambridge. Paul was the perfect gentleman the entire time, never once looking out of place or wishing we were back home. I was right. He was too big for La Push.

Our time in Boston came to an end all too soon. Then we were on our way to New Orleans. Our late-night flight was filled with whispered conversations and stolen kisses in the dark cabin of the plane. "I never want to stop doing this with you, Lee," he whispered to me, brushing the stray hairs from my ponytail away from my face.

"This is just the beginning," I told him. I meant that with everything in me. I wished that was enough.

So we ate our way through New Orleans. Gumbo and po'boys and shrimp and grits. We danced our way down Bourbon Street, and it was the most photogenic place I had ever seen. The colorful buildings decorated with beautiful greenery. Street performers blasting music from their horns. Happy couples dancing through the streets and everyone was either drunk or high on life. Just like us. We were patiently waiting our turn at Café Du Monde, the air filled with the delightful smell of fried dough and powdered sugar. "I can't wait for you to try this, Lee. It's going to change your life, I know it," Paul said, his one bouncing in excitement.

I giggled, "What about your life?"

"My life has already changed just by sitting in here," he told me. "This place is famous for their beignets."

"It's just like a donut, right?" I asked, watching a plate full of them go by. "Or like a funnel cake?"

"Bite your tongue," he scolded me. "A beignet is an experience."

Right then, our curly haired waitress came by with a tray perfectly balanced on her hand. "Two beignets, a café au lait, and a water. Anything else I can do for y'all?" she said in her chipper Southern accent. Paul thanked her with a bright smile, stopping her in her tracks a little before she scurried off to the kitchen.

Like a tourist, I pulled out my camera and staged our plates, snapping a few pictures. He chuckled at me as I started to point it at him. His smile was contagious; my favorite sight in the world. Paul started to gaze out the window as I continue to snap pictures of him, getting that gorgeous side profile. I lowered my camera and just admired him for a second. If we could do this every week for the rest of our lives, I would be totally fine with that. "Don't be weird," he teased, facing me again. His amber eyes looked even more golden as the sun touched them.

I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. "I don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed before," I told him honestly.

He shrugged, "I got my girl, I got good food. What else do I need?" He scooted my plate closer to me before picking up his own beignet in his hands. I followed suit and we bit down at the same time. It was like an explosion of flavor in my mouth. It was dense and light at the same time. The dough was perfectly fried and there was the slightest drizzle of honey on top of the powdered sugar. "Holy shit…" Paul said in amazement.

"Oh my god," I moaned. "That might be the most amazing thing I've ever had. Besides your cinnamon buns, of course."

"No, these are definitely better than anything I've ever made," he shook his head as he took another bite. He sighed, dusting powdered sugar from his hands. "I really like it here."

"Me too," I nodded, staring at my plate. Tulane was a gorgeous campus, and everyone had been so friendly. "I love everything about this place. The colors, the music, the culture…"

"But?"

I didn't feel like there was room to be picky at this point. School was starting in a few short months and I still hadn't made a decision yet. I honestly thought that when I stepped foot on campus, I would just know instantly. I would say: yes, this is my new home. But that hadn't happened yet. Boston was fun, but I was so focused on the numbers and the programs that I couldn't focus on how the school made me feel. And now, here in New Orleans, I was falling more in love with the city than where I would be taking classes. I couldn't see myself living here.

"Lee," Paul reached over and put his hand over mine. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

His skin was still warmer than normal, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. "It's stupid," I brushed it off.

"Nope, we're not doing that. Come on," he said. Paul reached down and pulled my chair until I was right next to him. He draped his arm around the back of my chair.

I looked down and picked at my nails. "I haven't had the feeling yet," I told him. He cocked his head curiously, waiting for me to explain. "You know, that feeling that everything about the place is perfect. Like the place you've been longing for and you didn't even know it. The place you can imagine yourself for more than just college, but after too. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love New Orleans. This city is so beautiful, but…"

"But you haven't found everything you're looking for," he finished for me. "It's ok, Leah, that's completely normal."

"Is it though?" I looked at him. His eyes were soft as he nodded. Paul gently ran his fingers down my arm before leaning in to place the most tender kiss on my lips. I blew out a breath, nervously when we parted. "What if we get to New York and that's not the place either?"

"Then we'll figure it out. Have a little faith," he told me, winking. "But I have a good feeling about New York."

He was right. As soon as we landed at JFK, the air felt different. It was electric, buzzing. We tried to keep up with the mad rush of people as they made their ways to their connecting flights and loved ones who were waiting outside the gate. I waited for that moment where I was uncomfortable at how big and unfamiliar it was…but it never came. Instead, I was looking at everything with the widest eyes and the most excitement I'd ever experienced. Paul entwined our fingers as he lifted his other hand to hail a cab. His eyes were sparkling.

New York was busy and the streets were dirty and the people were moving so fast around us that it wasn't uncommon for us to bump into people as they passed. Horns blared in the standstill traffic. The sense of urgency was overwhelming. And I was loving every single second of it. Even the graffiti was beautiful. The buildings were so tall, taller than anything I'd ever seen in my life. And I found myself wondering, as people passed, what their stories were. Who were these people? Where were they going?

"So I'm thinking, tomorrow after we get done with school stuff, we can meet up in Central Park and then go get lunch," Paul said, after we checked into our hotel. He dropped our bags at the door before collapsing on the bed. My parents sprung for two beds…even though they knew we wouldn't be using the second bed. I'm surprised they didn't spring for separate rooms.

"That sounds great," I said, reaching for him. He was just an inch too far away. He rolled over until he was facing me, our noses touching. "Thank you for coming with me," I whispered.

He pressed our foreheads together as he said, "I'll go anywhere with you."

We spent the night just being together. He spent hours learning every single part of my body. He knew my body better than I did. I think everything in the past six months was just melting away from me, the longer we stayed out of La Push. We were both happier, more relaxed. Other than Sam's weird voicemail, I hadn't thought about him or Emily at all since we'd been gone. In that same vein, I hadn't checked in with Rachel or Rebecca either. I didn't love that. I didn't want for us all to leave for college and not talk.

I remember waking up sometime around 3 in the morning. The sound of a loud fire truck siren passed our window, the red lights illuminating the entire room as it passed. Paul's heavy arm slipped down my waist as I moved to sit up in bed. I didn't even realize I fell asleep. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I knew I wasn't going to go back to sleep. Paul looked like an angel at peace beside me; I didn't want to disturb him. I carefully slipped out of the bed and stretched out before slipping on my jeans and shoes. We had been traveling so much, this was the first time I had had a quiet second to take it all in.

_I_ was in New York City. The hub of everything art. Books and theatre and fashion were all right here. This is insane. I walked out of the hotel to get some fresh air. Even in the middle of the night, it was quiet and loud at the same time. A group of girls passed me, laughing as their heels clacked against the concrete. A car honked at another car as it made an unplanned U turn. I started to walk toward the bright lights of the bodega across the street. The radio played on the speakers above as I walked in. The man behind the glass glanced up at me as he flipped the page of his magazine. I wandered the short isles, bopping to that new Clean Bandit song they play every five seconds.

_N-n-n-no, no, no place I'd rather be; n-n-n-no, no, no, no place I'd rather be…_

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge; I couldn't just walk in and walk out without buying anything. I heard the ding of the bell above the door as someone else walked into the bodega. "Hey Marco, can I get a pack of Newports, pleeease?" a friendly female voice rang out.

She was really pretty; her brown hair was thick and voluminous with red highlights running throughout it. Her legs were miles long; it took a while for my eyes to travel up them before I saw she was clad in a tight blood red body con dress, holding her 6-inch heels in one hand and a clutch in the other. She had a charming smile, but you could tell there was something more there. Her face read like she knew something that you didn't. "You still owe me for last time, Adriana," Marco, the cashier said, shaking his head.

"Come on, you know I'm good for it. I just haven't gotten paid for my last job yet," she answered, leaning on the counter.

"That's what you told me last time," he reminded her. "Where are you coming from anyway?"

"I had a date," she told him, shrugging her delicate shoulders. "He paid. Please, Marco? I'll love you forever."

Marco held his hands up, saying, "Sorry, I don't think I can do that for you this time."

I walked up, pulling a $10 bill out of my back pocket. "Here, I got it," I told them, saddling up next to the girl and placing my water bottle up on the counter. "Just this water and whatever she's smoking."

She smiled at me before pulling a face at the cashier. "Good to know there's still nice people in this city," she said, playfully turning her nose up. Marco rolled his eyes before turning around to grab her cigarettes. "You're saving me from myself right now," she told me as she held out her hand. "I'm Adriana, by the way."

"Leah," I said, smiling back at her.

"I've never seen you around here before. I'd remember a face like yours; you're so pretty," she said.

"I'm just visiting. I have a college interview tomorrow."

"Oh! So cool! Where?"

"Columbia."

"Ooh, she's smart," Adriana commented lightly, taking her cigarettes. We walked out of the bodega. Adriana leaned against the building and lit up. When she offered me one, I politely declined as I felt the cold of the water bottle in my hand. "Thanks for that. Marco's a total twin, a pure Gemini. Sometimes he's really chill about an IOU and sometimes he's completely frigid. Anyway," she took a deep drag and blew it out, "where are you from?"

"Washington State. About an hour outside of Seattle."

"Jesus, what are you doing all the way out here?" she chuckled. "I thought people on the west coast stayed on the west coast."

I shook my head, "I needed a drastic change. It started to get too claustrophobic."

She giggled, "I get that. I grew up in this small town in Pennsylvania, Amish country. I ran like the wind as soon as I could and never looked back. I wasn't interested in the whole 'married by 20, babies by 20 and a half' idea." She looked me up and down. "Most people are either running to something or running from something. What's the story?"

Where to start. "Both, I guess," I shrugged.

"There's a juicy story there, I can tell. Spill it," she smirked, her green eyes glimmering.

"In short? My ex-boyfriend cheated on me with my cousin but I kind of fell for his best friend whose now my boyfriend; he's asleep at the hotel right now. My mom wanted me to be a nurse and get married young and I wanted to go to school for art and live my life. So now I'm just trying to figure it all out."

"Damn," Adriana said, exhaling more smoke. **"**Well you picked the perfect place to figure things out. 90% of the people here are figuring it out."

"What do you do here?" I asked.

"A little bit of everything," Adriana said, dropping her half-smoked cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. "I'm in school for fashion though at FIT and I model on the side. I want to be the next American Anna Wintour."

"Whoa, how did you get into modeling?" I asked. "I'm a photographer."

Adriana pushed herself off of the building. "You'll learn that the island is a lot smaller once you're used to it. If you meet the right person, things go well for you here," she winked. "Let me give you my number. What are you doing after your interview?"

"Paul is meeting me in Central Park and we're going to lunch," I told her, handing her my phone.

"Oh my god, perf! I'll be on that side of town all day! Look, if you need someone to show you both around, let me know. I'll be your friendly face in the city," she smiled at me as she punched in her number and handed it back to me.

We made small talk for a while, as if we'd known each other for years. She told me she emancipated from her family and moved to New York City when she was 16; she'd been in the city for about three years. Adriana told me she changed her name, got her GED, and made it here all on her won. I told her about growing up on the reservation and how people don't leave hardly ever. She said that that sounded like where shew as from; she had to find her own family in the city so she could survive. But, as time passed, people started to drift off into different directions, some out of the city, some just got too busy. When she told me that, I thought of Rachel and Rebecca, hoping that wouldn't be the case after this summer. "It's the nature of the beast," she shrugged.

When I was finally heading back into the hotel, it was nearly sunrise. I creeped back into the room to see Paul flat on his stomach, dozing peacefully. After I slipped out of my jeans, I cozied up next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting my face on his shoulder blade. He was burning up. Even warmer than he had been a couple of days ago. Furrowing my eyebrows, I reached until the back of my hand to his forehead. He was so hot. Paul sighed as he buried his face into his pillow.

The morning came all too fast. I struggled to wake up as Paul hopped out of the bed, fresh as a daisy. "Wake up, college girl," he said, running his hands through my hair.

"Go away," I grumbled, rolling over. I pulled the pillow over my face, feeling myself drift back asleep.

"Come on, sweetheart, you have to wake up," Paul tried to coax me by speaking in his low, sweet voice and rubbing my back.

"No, I hate you," I pushed his hand away. I couldn't even hold my eyes open, let alone keep my head up.

He chuckled. I felt the bed shift as he stood up. "Don't make me do it, Lee."

"I'll kill you," I told him.

"3…"

"Paul, don't!"

"2…"

"_Stoooooop!_"

"1." Paul snatched the blanket off of me, the crisp morning air attacking my body. I shrieked as my legs pulled closer to my chest. He leaned over and shook my leg. "Get up, Lee, come on. You don't want to be late for your interview."

He effortlessly lifted me off of the bed and carried me into the bathroom. I groaned as he tried to set me down in front of the sink. My hands restricted around his neck as I shook my head in his chest. He finally sat me on the sink, looking super refreshed from a good night's sleep. I rubbed my eyes as I yawned. When I looked at him, it was like he shot up another couple of inches overnight. My brows furrowed as I analyzed him from head to toe. "What happened?" I asked, squinting.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

My arm shot up, touching the top of his head. "You're getting bigger. How is that possible?" I hopped off the sink and stood next to him. The top of my head barely leveled up with his shoulder.

He shrugged it off as he placed his hands on my hips and made me stand in front of him. "That doesn't even matter," he said, "because guess what I'm looking at."

"What?"

"I'm looking at the future of Columbia University right now," he grinned. I couldn't help but smile at his words. I had told him on the plane that I was most excited about Columbia; I had been daydreaming about going to the Met, visiting galleries, talking to brilliant professors about art, and taking photos all around the city.

We had only been in New York for less than 24 hours and I could already see us having a life here. As I looked at Paul in the mirror, I imagined us getting ready together every morning. Between his bed head and mine and the morning sun shining through the room's windows, I saw us growing together. Cramped in a small apartment, tired from the day, but in love. Would we get a dog? Or a cat? Would we live in Brooklyn or Queens? Would we frequent bars on the weekends or would we be more like homebody types?

I felt as one of his hands glided across my torso; his head dipped down and kissed my neck. I shivered a little as his lips ghosted that area. I leaned into his body, feeling all of his warmth. His hard muscles were inviting somehow, comforting. My eyes fluttered closed as he continued to delicately feel my body. Then he smacked me hard on the ass. "Ow!" I exclaimed loudly.

"Get in the shower. We have a busy day," he said, walking out of the bathroom.

"You really know how to ruin a moment," I said, sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. He didn't respond; he just chuckled and closed the door behind him.

XXXXXXXXX

Mrs. Teller was really intimidating. Well…that's what I thought when I first met her in the lobby of the administration building. Her brown hair was in a tight bun and her glasses perched on her nose like you see in the movies. I couldn't stop fidgeting in my seat; my blouse was uncomfortable. Paul had insisted on going to Columbia with me until it was time for him to leave for his tour of the culinary school. As he sat next to me in the lobby, he kept whispering, "You're going to do great. Just be yourself."

By the time I made it back to Mrs. Teller's office—she told me to call her Connie, but I told her I'd be more comfortable calling her Mrs. Teller—it gave off a completely different vibe than her stiff pencil skirt, wrinkle free white button-down shirt, and black patent leather pumps. Her walls were covered in art. I recognized one Gustav Klimt behind her desk. The rest were Art Deco type pieces. There were so many hanging plants in front of her large windows and gentle music played in the background as she sighed, gracefully settling into her desk chair. I sank into one of the armchairs; it was so soft, I almost felt like I was being swallowed.

She started off with some easy questions. By now, all of my standard interview questions came out naturally. My background, my ambitions, where I come from, my strengths. This time felt different. Every time I answered, Mrs. Teller would take a pause then give me a chipper 'okay!' before she moved onto the next question on her checklist. At one point, I was convinced I blew it. She tapped her pen on her legal pad for a second before setting it down, lacing her fingers on top of her desk, and making direct eye contact with me. "How are you feeling today?" she asked me.

I opened my mouth to answer before closing it again, not entirely sure how to answer. It was a little bit of a catch-22; I could either be honest and tell her that I was nervous about this interview, anxious about the future, and an all-around mess when it came to figuring out this college stuff or I could tell her that I feel great and that I knew, for sure, that I had a handle on my life and my surroundings. I blew out a breath and bit my lip as I contemplated my options. "I'm really nervous," I said, nodding.

She offered me a small smile, "I can tell." She reached down and pulled out a bowl of peppermints from her desk. "Here, have one. It'll calm your nerves."

I hesitated before grabbing one. I played with the plastic for a second before popping the mint in my mouth. The silence was a little comfortable.

"It's perfectly normal to be nervous, Leah," Mrs. Teller told me. "But can I be honest with you?"

I nodded. The soft mint started to dissolve in my mouth.

"You're sounding a little rehearsed. Like you've practiced these answers a million times in your mirror." She shrugged her shoulders, "Not that that's a bad thing. That's very commendable. But I want to know you more. What inspires you? You said you wanted to study art history; tell me why."

My eyes immediately went to the painting above her head. "That's a Gustav Klimt, right?" I asked, willing myself to relax.

Mrs. Teller glanced behind her and then nodded, impressed, "Very good eye," she complimented me.

"Thank you," I beamed. "The first time I saw a Klimt was in a movie. That romantic comedy with Reese Witherspoon and that guy from _Star Trek_. I had never been that much into paintings, but his art spoke to me. I started to study him for a class. Before then, I was only into photography; I was obsessed with Collier Schorr and Zanele Muholi and so many others. But once I started to learn other mediums, I knew art was the only industry I wanted to be in.

I paused and glanced at the other pieces in her office, "I know that's a Meredith Frampton," I pointed to one painting before pointing to another, "and that's a Winold Reiss. Winold Reiss is one of my favorite artists. All three of them are completely different vibes and styles, technically, but rhythmically, they all work in this space because they make you feel something. They make you think; they make you want to learn more about their motivations and their muses. I want to study art history because I want to learn how to love art more."

Mrs. Teller let out a small hum as she picked up her pencil and nodded to herself. I watched as her hand went to the top of the page and put a star next to my name. Then she looked up at me again, over her glasses. "That was the best answer I've heard all day."

Walking out of that building, I felt like I was floating on a cloud. I was on top of the world. All of the brick buildings and white columns were just so empowering for me. So many amazing and intelligent people walked these same stairs, cobblestone walkways, and crosswalks. For the first time, I felt sure about what I wanted. I wanted the rush of the city and to grow here. This was it.

Paul and I met up and explored Central Park before we went to this place called Momofuku. Paul was going on and on about the guy that owns it and wanted to see if it was as good as he thought it would be. He was like a kid in a candy store. After I told him about my interview, he prattled on and on about the culinary institute. His amber eyes sparkled and danced as if he was a kindergartner telling you about their first day of school.

"So…" I started, stirring my noodles with my chopsticks, "do you want to pack up your entire life in La Push and move to New York City with me?"

He didn't even miss a beat. "Absolutely."

I grinned at him as my phone began to vibrate in my purse. Digging it out of the bottom of my purse, I looked at the ID. It was Adriana, the girl from last night. "Hold on," I told Paul as I answered. "Hello?"

"Leah!" Adriana squealed. "Oh my gosh, I'm so glad you answered the phone. I had the most brilliant of brilliant ideas."

"What's up?" I asked, twirled my chopsticks in my hand. Paul looked at me and mouthed 'who is it?' I held up one finger as I listened.

"Ok, so a good friend of mine is hosting a photoshoot at this insane apartment on the Upper West Side. You and your cutie should drop by! And then we can all go out after!" She sounded so excited; how could I say no? "Perfect! I'll text you the address."

XXXXXXXXX

We could hear the music and pure laughter from outside the door. It was that electronic, dance club music you always here in the movies. I had texted Adriana when we pulled up in the cab; she swung the door open, looking happy and a little bit tipsy. "You're here!" she yelled. She grabbed both of our hands and pulled us inside. "You must be Paul. Leah bragged about you last night; you're even cuter than she said."

"Oh…thanks, I guess?" Paul said as she pulled us deeper into the apartment. It was a gorgeous place. There were floor-to-ceiling windows and this insane mural painted on the ceiling. A girl was pulling a sheer curtain in front of her body, only clad in lingerie. There were tons of lights and reflector umbrellas all over the room.

Adriana rambled as we looked around. "…after we talked last night, I was thinking about how serendipitous it was that I would meet a photographer at my favorite bodega. It felt like a sign, you know? Like we're going to be best friends, I just know it," she said, pouring champagne in two glasses. She was also in lingerie, only a little more covered than some of the other models.

"What's the photoshoot for?" I asked.

She lit up, "Julian is putting together a boudoir portfolio for his next gallery exhibit; he's working with this other photographer who's up and coming out of Brooklyn. Julian likes to have his hands in all kinds of projects, so we never really know what he's looking for until we get the call." She downed the rest of her champagne before grabbing my hand. "Come meet him!"

I turned to Paul who nodded at me, encouraging me to go. He leaned against the wall next to the bar cart, shifting a little uncomfortably. I felt guilty dragging him here, but I would have felt even guiltier leaving him at the hotel. Adriana's heels clacked on the hardwood floor as we approached this man who was barely older than us, a firm scowl on his face. His camera sat on a tri pod, next to a laptop with all of the shots he had taken. "Turn a little to the side for me and tilt your head back," he told the model. She shifted just slightly before we heard the shutter of the camera. The shot popped up on the laptop; it was gorgeous. She was shadowed by the windows; her curled hair framed the silhouette of her head and the only thing you could see was the small ruffles of her garter belt.

"Oh wow, that's beautiful," I commented quietly, leaning down to examine it more.

"Julian," Adriana tapped the photographer on his shoulder.

He turned around, his frown deepening. "What's up?" his eyes darted to me. "Who is this?"

"This is Leah Clearwater," Adriana said proudly. "Columbia, Class of 2018."

"Oh!" his eyebrows raised. "Welcome to New York."

"Julian teaches photography at Columbia, actually. I met him when I first moved to the city; he helped me get a few modeling jobs after I got signed." Adriana told me. "Leah wants to be a photographer. She's amazing."

I giggled. "You haven't even seen my work yet."

"I don't have to. It's all in the vibe."

Julian turned away from the camera to face me. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked me up and down, studying me. He looked no older than his late 20's, although I did spot a couple of greys in his hairline. I can't even judge; Rachel found her first grey hair at 17. He was reasonably attractive; stubble beard, big brown eyes, dark hair, olive skin, slight New York accent. "Let me guess…west coast," he said.

I blinked in surprise. "How did you—?"

"What do you think of the shot?" he moved on, tapping some keys on the computer.

"I-I think it's super impressive. Utilizing the windows is always a great idea for boudoir," I said.

"But?" he prompted.

I pursed my lips as I contemplated whether I should speak my mind or not. Artists are temperamental and I didn't want to make an enemy in a place I haven't even moved to yet. My eyes wandered up to the muralled ceiling and blew out a quiet breath, "I personally would use the ceiling more," I said, my voice going up at the end. "It's so eye-catching; you wouldn't want to waste it. But that's just me. I wouldn't want to step on anyone's toes."

Julian glanced up at the ceiling then looked back at me then the ceiling then back at me. He tapped his finger to his lips. "Show me how."

For a second there, it was like I was seeing a glimpse into my future. As I recruited Paul to help me move an incredibly large and heavy mirror that he picked up strangely effortlessly, I could feel my heart beating in excitement. I pulled back all of the curtains to let the natural light flood in more and introduced myself to the rest of the models. Julian's camera was a lot more sophisticated than mine, but it didn't take me long to figure it out. I felt like Julian was watching me more than he was watching the process, but I didn't want to bring attention to that.

Ava, the model from earlier, came over and sat delicately on the mirror. I told her to lean back on her elbows and arch her back as much as she could and let her head drop. From above, I found just the right angle so the camera could capture her, her reflection, and the mural in the mirror. I adjusted the setting so everything except for the mirror and Ava was blurred and took 10 shots.

"Your girlfriend is a genius," I heard Adriana say behind me.

Paul chuckled, "I know."

Time passed so quickly, I didn't even realize I had kind of taken over the shoot. Eventually, we found a natural stopping point and I took a minute to look at the shots I had gotten. Julian hovered over my shoulder and let out a light humming noise. "Very impressive," he complimented me. "You've got a great eye."

"Thank you," I smiled.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"18," I answered, adjusting the brightness on one of the photos of Ava.

"A natural gift then. You haven't had any training?" he asked.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Nah, we don't have good art programs where I come from."

"Looks like you came to the right place then," he said, reaching over me to center a picture. Then he reached in his back pocket and handed me a card. "Let me know if you register for one of my classes. I'd love to teach you some tricks."

It would be wrong for me not to point out that his fingers intentionally lingered on the card as I grabbed it. We made eye contact that was just a second longer than I was comfortable with. The entire shoot, he hadn't made a pass at anyone; Julian was composed and professional and just the right amount of playful and easy going. I could tell that Julian Gerard was a serious artist type from the second I met him. But I wasn't interested in the smoldering eyes and intense vibes he was throwing.

Paul and I decided to stay after the shoot was over. Some of the models brought out drinks and turned up the music even louder than before. It felt strange partying without Rachel, Bex, Sam, and Jared. I almost felt like I was in another world. I was used to drinking beer and stolen rum at a bonfire; these girls were popping champagne and drinking martinis.

They weren't like the model types that you would expect though. Ava was studying to be a doctor; she was just like Izzie Stevens from _Grey's_. Adriana was studying fashion. One of the other girls was studying to be a psychologist. These girls were real girls and that was my favorite part about it.

But still, it was like something straight out of _Gossip Girl_. Years of daydreaming about being like Blair and Serena in Rachel and Rebecca's living room and here I was experiencing that _kind of _in real life. I needed a second to take it all in. So while a literal model was trying to flirt with my boyfriend, I was just sitting on the floor, champagne flute in hand, taking it all in.

Man, I wished Rachel and Becca were there with me. That would make this perfect. My first New York photoshoot came out of nowhere and it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. This felt like a sign.

The model placed a flirty hand on Paul's bicep and laughed as he tried to scoot away, casually. I couldn't tell how he felt about this whole ordeal, but I couldn't ignore that he set aside the rest of our afternoon so I could do this. When he had finally had enough, he excused himself and walked over to me, his eyes twinkling as he took me in. I downed the rest of my champagne as he slid down the wall to sit next to me. He hooked his finger under my chin and turned my face toward his and drew me into a deep kiss. I sighed happily against his lips, tasting scotch on him. "Thank you," I said to him, reaching up to play with his hair.

"What are you thanking me for, love?" he asked.

"For coming with me. I know it's not what we had planned for the day."

He moved until our noses were touching, "I'd do anything for you, Lee. This is our new life. I want us to enjoy every second of it."

I didn't know what to say. All I could feel was my heart was bursting with love. The one thing that I was sure of was that Paul would stay by my side forever and I wouldn't have it any other way. His support didn't come with questions or conditions; he listened to me. I didn't want to compare him to Sam; Paul's love was too pure to be compared to anything or anyone. And he knew that I would do anything for him too.

"Hey lovebugs!" Adriana called from across the room. Her smirk was playful as she grabbed a jacket from the clothing rack. "We're headed to a speakeasy. Are you guys coming?"

I glanced at Paul for a second before looking back at Adriana. "I think we're going to call it a night, actually."

This whole night was so much fun, but I was ready to spend some time with my man. So, we said goodbye; I let Adriana know that I'd call her when I got back to the city for school. I didn't even realize how late it was until we stepped outside. It was pitch black and eerily quiet. We still managed to catch a cab to go back to our hotel room. Paul scooted into the car close to me, draping his jean jacket over my goosebump covered legs. The air was blasting in the cab. Paul wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close, kissing my temple.

Then he trailed until his lips were to my ear. "Tell me a secret," he whispered. His deep voice rumbled through my body and hit right into my panties. His hot hand was resting on my knee, massaging it gently. I shifted until I was looking into his beautiful eyes. All I could see was pure hunger in them; it sent a rush of arousal to my core.

"You first," I said.

He smirked. "I want you," he said nonchalantly.

I giggled. "You've gotten really bad at this game. That's not a secret."

"Fine," he sighed, "I thought you looked way hotter holding that camera than any of those girls sitting in front of it."

He pulled my legs until they were resting on his. His hand glided up my thigh slowly, intentionally. When he reached the hemline of my skirt, I could feel my heart start to race a little. I bit my lip to hide my excitement before glancing at the unsuspecting cab driver. I felt his fingertips touch the wetness of my panties for just a second. "Did you really think so?" I asked.

"So hot," he said, pecking my lips before repeating, "Tell me a secret."

I was distracted by his fingers now rubbing slow circles on my cloth covered clit. My breath hitched as he pressed a little harder. "Um…" I swallowed. All of the lights from the passing buildings seemed to pull me out of my head. "I don't want to go back," I said honestly.

"To the hotel?" he asked, gently pulling my panties to the side and resuming his circles.

"To La Push," I clarified. It was hard to keep a casual conversation as he continued to play with me. With every second, I was getting wetter and wetter. My head fell forward onto his shoulder as I tried to gain my composure. "This whole trip has been so perfect. I'm not ready to go back to reality."

"That's understandable," he said so casually. He slipped a finger inside of me, gripping my thigh to keep me still. My eyes fluttered closed as I fought a moan. "But think of it this way: we'll only be home for a couple of months, you'll get to say bye to your family and Rachel and Rebecca, and then we'll pack everything up and start fresh."

In that moment, it was total bliss. I didn't want a day to pass without Paul next to me. I wanted to breathe in his sweet scent everyday; I wanted him to make me feel like this everyday. He pushed my boundaries and didn't make it feel scary. He made me feel dangerous and secure all at the same time.

Right there, in the back of my cab, everything he said felt so easy. Our fresh start was right there at our fingertips. Knowing what I know now, everything he said was like famous last words.

XXXXXXXXX

Seth was telling me and Paul all about this Alexis girl while we were in the car on our way back from the airport. I was only gone for three weeks and he somehow gained the confidence to ask a girl to be his girlfriend! I have to admit it was cute to see Seth crushing on someone. Every time he said Alexis' name, his russet skin was tinge red and he would duck his head in embarrassment.

"I'm just glad you get to meet her before you leave, Lee," Seth said, quietly. "Didn't you used to date her sister, Paul?"

Paul chuckled uncomfortably and scratched the back of his head, "Something like that," he mumbled. "Can we turn the air up? It's a little hot."

I saw Dad look in the rear view in concern before he turned up the air conditioning. It felt strange being back; somehow, I was already used to being away from La Push. Just in that short amount of time. Instead of skyscrapers and blinding lights, we were passing endless green trees and mountains.

Mom turned in her seat to face us. "Ok, tell me all about your adventure," she said. She looked excited and a little sad. I could tell that she was grappling with the idea of both Paul and I leaving, but she was trying to be supportive. So, I was doing my best to ease her into it.

We told them all about our trip. Sight-seeing in Boston, beignets in New Orleans, my impromptu photoshoot in New York. Paul told them about visiting the culinary school and getting to talk to professional chefs who run 5-star restaurants in the city. Mom was getting a little misty eyed, I could tell.

The four hours back to the reservation went by a lot quicker than I thought it would. Just how things were moving so quickly in my life, the same thing was happening to my family and friends. Emily and Sam apparently moved into a house together on the rez; people thought—and still think—that she's pregnant. According to Seth, Sam is busy corrupting other people with his weird ass behavior. He says that his friends, Embry and Quil, were starting to follow Sam around like lost puppies. Seth is the sweetest kid on the planet and it hurt to see him hurt. Especially over something like this. He didn't have to say he felt lonely, but I knew he did. He spent all of his time with those kids.

The first thing I did when we got back home was go see the twins. Paul went back to his house to catch a shower and maybe a nap. Rachel answered the door and screamed at the top of her lungs before pulling me into a hug. "Oh my god, I missed you so much!" she said. She turned around and yelled into the house, "Bex, Leah's here!"

I wanted to spend as much time with them as possible before the end of the summer. Bex was about to be on an island hours away and I was moving all the way across the country. Who knows the next time we'll be like this. The three of us sat on the front porch just gossiping the rest of the afternoon away. "Sam's been on a rampage since you guys left," Bex said. "You should see him walking around here like a goddamn cult leader."

"Yeah…" Rachel agreed. "I don't know what it is, but more and more of the guys are following Sam and no one will tell us why."

"Not to mention him asking for Paul every other day," Bex commented.

"More like demanding."

"Paul?" I asked. "What does he want with Paul?"

The twins shrugged. "He showed up to your house the day after you guys left and got so pissed when Seth told him you and Paul were on a plane to Boston," Bex told me.

"I told Jacob to stay away from him. Things are just too weird," Rachel shook her head.

I wondered if that had anything to do with what Jared warned me about. The sooner we could pack up and get out of here, the sooner I could keep Paul away from Sam. It was mind boggling to me that Sam could be angry with me for wanting to move on, but move in with my cousin. How did that make sense?

As if he knew we were talking about him, Sam started to walk in front of us on the main road. Trailing behind him was Jared, Embry Call, Quil Ateara, and little Collin Littlesea. Well…not so little anymore, I guess. All five of them were well over 6'0 and bulked up like they were pumping steroids. Sam glanced over at the Blacks' house and almost instantly locked eyes with me. He switched course and walked up to me and the twins.

My stomach dropped. The vibe of Sam and his…followers was just so ominous; it sent a chill down my spine. "Lee Lee," Sam's deep voice reached me before he did. "You're back."

"Please don't call me that," I cringed.

"I, uh, I missed you," he told me, looking down at his shoes. Did I mention they were all wearing the same jean cut off shorts and no shirts? Why? "Did you get my voicemail?"

"Yes, it's sitting quite nicely in the deleted folder," I rolled my eyes. "What do you need, Sam?"

"Is Paul with you?" he asked. "I need to talk to him."

I shook my head, "Talk to him about what?"

He clenched his jaw, "I can't really say."

"Then I can't really say where Paul is."

Behind him, I could see Embry and Quil look at each other in shock. No matter how buff and scary Sam gets, I will never back down to him. Are you kidding? Just because everyone can see that he's clearly on some weird power trip doesn't mean that I have to cower to his bullshit. Jared was hiding a small smile, ducking his head. "It won't take much to find him. Can you just tell me where he is?" Sam asked again, his face tight.

"Hard pass," I said as I checked my nails. Bex snickered next to me.

Sam stormed off with a growl. I was a little pleased with myself, I can't even lie. I don't know what it was; I was just feeling this confidence that everyone had always told me I had. Somewhere in the midst of the three years I spent with Sam, I was alright with going along with whatever he said. Things are different now. "Whoa there, mama bear," Becca laughed.

"Do you see how weird it is though?" Rachel said, shivering. "They're like a cult or something. It's so scary."

That's when shit hit the fan. Sam and his disciples went straight to the Lahote house and knocked on the door with heavy thuds. The three of us whipped around to see Sam try to see if the front door was unlocked. Paul opened it, only clad in a pair of sweatpants. He ran a hand through his wet hair; he looked so confused. "What do you want?" I watched him say.

Sam took a step forward, gesturing into the house. Paul shook his head. Instead of taking 'no' for an answer, Sam all but forced his way into the house, Jared following closely behind him.

I didn't waste any time; I hopped up and went straight to the house. I jogged until I got to the front porch where Embry and Quil were awkwardly guarding the door. Embry started to shake his head and hold out his hand, "Sorry, Leah, you can't go in there."

"Excuse me?" I said, incredulously.

"We can't let you in the house," Quil doubled down.

I stood there are argued with them for way too long. It wasn't like I could plow through them; they were huge and solid. These kids…they were literally just two scrawny boys a month ago. They liked to watch video games too much and they still thought farts were funny. Who was standing in front of me? These giants looked so hard and unmoved; they both had a weird tattoo on their shoulders and cut off all of their hair.

Inside there was a huge thud and I heard Paul roar in anger, "_What the fuck?!_"

I managed to slip past Embry and Quil to get inside. Embry had stuck his hand out to grab me, but I moved just past his reach. Inside, I saw Paul on his hands and knees, his head hung in front of him. His whole body seemed to be vibrating. Sam was standing against the wall, pissed off, guarded by Jared.

"Leah, get out of here," Jared said to me.

"What the hell did you do?" I said, running to Paul's side. There was a giant hole in the wall, I'm assuming from the impact of Paul's body. "Paul, sweetie, are you ok? Talk to me."

"Leah, _move_," Sam commanded. "You shouldn't be here!"

"Don't fucking talk to her like that!" Paul yelled. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

"This needs to happen, Paul," Sam said from across the room.

"_Fuck off_," Paul snarled. "You don't know shit."

I cautiously reached out to touch Paul, but it was thwarted by this inhuman growl that came from somewhere deep inside him. I gasped and moved away. He looked at me, sweat pouring from his face. He seemed to calm down for a second before Sam snatched me up, holding me by my waist. I thrashed against him with no luck. That seemed to get Paul riled up again. "Get off of me!" I yelled.

"I'm sorry, Lee Lee. You need to get out of here before you get hurt," Sam said, in my ear.

"The only person that's hurting me is _you_!" I said, trying to get away from Sam's hard body.

Paul's body started to shake even harder than before, watching Sam try to haul me away. "_Get the hell away from her!_"

As he lunged toward Sam, Jared moved to tackle Paul to the ground. They rolled around a couple of times before Paul roared louder than anything I'd ever heard before.

Everything changed in that second. Less than a second. I continued to flail against Sam's body as, what once was my boyfriend, Paul, turned into a huge, snarling 8-foot wolf. Jared jumped away from the wolf, cursing loudly. He gripped his arm where there was a huge gash; then he looked at me, silently apologizing to me with his guilt-ridden eyes.

The last thing I remember was the loud whining of a panicking wolf before everything went dark.


End file.
